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IN  MEMORIAM 
BERNARD  MOSES 


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SERMONS 


PREACHED  AND  REYISED  BY  THB 


KM.  C.  H.  SPURaEON, 


liftfe     ^tXXtB. 


NEW    YORK: 
SHELDON     AND     COMPANY. 

BOSTON:    GOULD    &    LINCOLN. 
CHICAQO  :    S.    C.    GRIGGS    &    CO. 

1869. 


■z  ^"Z 


By  special  arrangement  Sheldon  &  Company  will  publish  the  Sermons 
of  the  Ret.  C.  H.  SpuRaEON,  and  it  is  the  author^s  wish  that  no  parties 
shall  infringe  this  contract. 


BERNARD  MOSES 


BTEEEOTYPED  BY  *  FEINTED  BY 

T.    B,    Smith   &   Son,  Pudnet   &   RussBiiL, 

82  «Sc  84  Beekman-st  79  John-street 


5^ 


TO 

THE  ONE  GOD  OF  HEAVEN  AND  EARTH, 

IN 

THE   TRINITY   OF   HIS   SACRED   PERSONS, 

BE    ALL     HONOR    AND     GLORY, 

WITH( 

AMEN. 

TO  THE  GLORIOUS  FATHER,  AS  THE  COVENANT  GOD 
OF  ISRAEL; 

TO   THE    GRACIOUS   SON,    THE    REDEEMER  OF    HIS    PEOPLE  ; 

)LY   GHOST,    THE   A 
SANCTIFICATION  ; 

BE   EVERLASTING   PRAISE   FOR   THAT   GOSPEL   OF   THE 


HEREIN   PROCLAIMED   UNTO   MEN. 


885970 


PREFACE 


I  f:^l  that  the  readers  of  my  sermons  are  my  friends. 
Many,  doubtless,  read  to  cavil,  to  criticise,  and  to  con- 
demn ;  but  a  vast  number  have  charity  enough  to 
overlook  the  faults,  grace  enough  to  profit  by  the  truths, 
and  kindness  enough  to  allow  me  a  place  in  their  hearts. 
Innumerable  are  the  loving  epistles  which  I  have  re- 
ceived from  those  to  whom  these  sermons  have  been 
blessed.  From  all  denominations  of  Christian  men  have 
I  received  cheering  words  of  sympathy  and  affection.  I 
can  appreciate  the  high  Christian  feeling  which  has  con- 
strained my  brethren  to  bear  with  all  the  things  in  which 
we  can  not  agree,  and  cordially  to  accept  me  as  a  brother 
beloved,  because  of  those  glorious  truths  in  which  we 
alike  rejoice.  I  would,  therefore,  in  this  preface  salute 
all  the  brethren,  desiring  that  grace,  mercy,  and  peace 
may  be  multiplied  unto  them  from  God  our  Father  and 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  May  our  prayers  be  heard  for 
each  other,  when  we  earnestly  pray  the  Father  of  mer- 
cies to  fill  us  all  with  the  Spirit  of  his  Son,  that  we  may 
be  conformed  unto  his  image  in  all  things,  and  at  last 
may  appear  with  him  in  glory. 

And  now  what  can  I  say  fresh  by  way  of  preface  to 
this  volume?  Assuredly  I  am  shut  up  to  one  subject, 
and  that  involves  a  repetition    of  the  song  of  former 


V113  PEEFACE. 

years.  I  must  sing  of  judgment  and  mercy,  and  at  the 
risk  of  incurring  the  charge  of  egotism,  I  will  here 
record  my  praise. 

Personally  I  have  experienced  a  twofold  and  memor- 
able deliverance;  once  by  an  escape  from  a  terrible  ac- 
cident ;  and  yet  again,  by  a  happy  recovery  from  most 
trying  and  painful  sickness.  May  my  life  be  henceforth 
doubly  devoted  unto  the  service  of  the  Lord ! 

In  the  ministry^  too,  the  Lord  hath  been  very  gracious. 
The  people  have  never  failed  to  gather  in  immense  mul- 
titudes, nor  have  the  brethren  ceased  to  wrestle  in  prayer 
that  the  Word  may  be  prospered.  But  my  special  crown 
of  rejoicing  lies  in  the  success  which  a  condescending 
Master  has  given  to  one  who  feels  far  more  than  ever 
his  utter  and  entire  unworthiness  of  such  a  favor,  for 
these  sermons  have  upon  them  the  stamp  of  the  Lord's 
right  hand,  seeing  that  he  has  employed  them  for  convic- 
tion, conversion,  and  edification. 

I  value  a  sermon,  not  by  the  approbation  of  men,  or 
the  ability  manifest  in  it,  but  by  the  effect  produced  in 
comforting  the  saint,  and  awakening  the  sinner.  Is  not 
this,  after  all,  the  practical  way  of  estimating  all  that  is 
spoken  or  written  ? 

A  fresh  source  of  consolation  has  been  opened  to  me 
from  the  information  I  receive  of  the  good  attending  the 
public  reading  of  these  printed  preachings.  In  lonely 
places  there  are  Churches  of  Christ  whose  only  ministry  is 
found  in  these  pages,  save  when  a  passing  evangelist  is  led 
to  open  his  mouth  among  them.  In  rooms  in  the  crowded 
haunts  of  poverty,  these  are  read  to  hundreds  who  could 
scarcely  understand  any  language  more  refined;  while  at 
races,  and  fairs,  and  even  at  pilgrimages  of  the  Eomish 


PREFACE.  IX 

churcli,  these  have  been  used  by  earnest  brethren  as  a 
means  of  obtaining  an  audience  in  the  open  air.  In 
America,  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
volumes  have  been  sold;  in  Australia,  two  local  editions 
have  appeared,  besides  those  which  have  been  exported 
by  the  London  publishers.  A  Welsh  edition  has  been 
issued  monthly,  and  several  of  the  sermons  have  been 
translated  into  Dutch,  German,  and  French,  while  the 
English  circulation  remains  undiminished. 

But  what  of  all  this,  unless  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  shall 
apply  the  Word  with  power?  In  vain  true  doctrine  and 
faithful  warning,  without  his  divine  influence.  Brethren, 
pray  for  us  I  that  the  Word  may  be  more  and  more  a 
"savor  of  life  unto  life"  in  the  souls  of  those  who  shall 
peruse  these  pages. 

There  is  one  theme  of  rejoicing  to  which  I  am  con- 
strained to  allude.  The  importance  of  the  pulpit  is  evi- 
dently beginning  to  be  recognized.  I  greatly  I'ejoice  in 
the  opening  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  and  other  large 
buildings  for  the  ministry  of  the  Word.  May  the  zeal  of 
the  churches  increase,  and  may  the  preaching  be  the  proc- 
lamation of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  JesVjS.  Sound  doctrine  is 
as  essential  now  as  in  the  days  of  the  Eeformation.  We 
must  not  congratulate  ourselves  on  the  mere  assemblage  of 
crowds,  but  we  must  see  to  it  that  the  gospel  is  preached, 
not  mere  moral  maxims  and  ceremonial  observances. 
With  love  to  all  the  people  of  God,  I  am, 

The  servant  of  Christ  and  his  Church, 
C.  H.  SPURGEOK 

Apbil,  1859. 

1* 


CONTENTS. 


^♦■»- 


SERMON    I. 

PAQH 

Hifl  Name — ^Wondebful 16 


SERMON  n. 

His  Name — the  Counselob 31 

SERMON    III. 

"  As  THY  Days,  bo  shall  thy  Strength  be" 49 

SERMON    IV. 
The  Voice  of  the  Blood  of  Christ % 65 

SERMON    V. 
The  New  Heart 81 


SERMON    VI. 
The  Fatherhood  of  Qod 97 


SERMON    Vn. 
Eykbybody'b  Sermon 112 


XU  CONTENTS. 


SERMON    YIII. 

PAGE 

A  Lecture  tor  Little-Faith 129 


SERMON    IX. 

Confession  and  Absolution 14'? 


SERMON    X. 

Declension  from  First  Loye 164 


SERMON    XI. 

God's  Barriers  against  Man's  Sin 180 


SERMON    XII. 
Comfort  Proclaimed 19t 

SERMON    XIII. 

The  Christian's  Heaviness  and  Rejoicing 211 


SERMON    XIY. 
Evil  and  its  Remedy. 222 


SERMON    XY. 

Samson  Conquered 23G 


CONTENTS.  XUl 


SERMON     XVI. 

PAOB 

LooKixG  UNTO  Jesus 253 


SERMON    XVn. 

Satan's  Banquet .' 270 


SERMON     XYin. 
The  Feast  of  the  Lord 289 


SERMON    XIX. 
The  Blood 303 


SERMON    XX. 
Love 319 


SERMON     XXI. 
The  Great  Revival 336 


SERMON     XXn. 
The  Form  and  Spirit  op  Religion 353 


SERMON    XXin. 

Proyidbnoe 370 


XIV  CONTENTS 


SERMON    XXIV. 

PAOK 

The  Yanguard  and  Reretvaed  of  the  Church 38T 


SERMON    XXV. 

The  World  Turned  Upside  Down 402 


SERMON    XXVI. 
Human  Responsibility 420 


SERMON    XXVII. 
Faith  in  Perfection 437 


•SERMON  I. 

HIS  NAME  — WONDERFUL. 

"His  name  shall  be  called. "WonderM" — ^Isaiah,  ix.  6. 

One  evening  last  week  I  stood  by  the  sea-shore  when  the 
storm  was  raging.  The  voi«e  of  the  Lord  was  upon  the  wat- 
ers ;  and  who  was  I  that  I  should  tarry  within  doors,  when 
my  Master's  voice  was  heard  sounding  along  the  water  ?  I 
rose  and  stood  to  behold  the  flash  of  his  lightnings,  and  listen 
to  the  glory  of  his  thunders.  The  sea  and  the  thunders  were 
contesting  with  one  another;  the  sea  with  infinite  clamor 
striving  to  hush  the  deep-throated  thunder,  so  that  his  voice 
should  not  be  heard;  yet  over  and  above  the  roar  of  the 
billows  might  be  heard  that  voice  of  God,  as  he  spake  with 
flames  of  fire,  and  divided  the  way  for  the  waters.  It  was  a 
dark  night,  and  the  sky  was  covered  with  thick  clouds,  and 
scarce  a  star  could  be  seen  through  the  rifts  of  the  tempest ; 
but  at  one  particular  time,  I  noticed  far  away  on  the  horizon, 
as  if  miles  across  the  water,  a  bright  shining,  like  gold.  It 
was  the  moon  hidden  behind  the  clouds,  so  that  she  could  not 
shine  upon  us ;  but  she  was  able  to  send  her  rays  down  upon 
the  waters,  far  away,  where  no  cloud  happened  to  intervene. 
I  thought,  as  I  read  this  chapto*"  last  evening,  that  the  prophet 
seemed  to  have  stood  in  a  like  position,  when  he  wrote  the 
words  of  my  text.  All  round  about  him  were  clouds  of  dark- 
ness ;  he  heard  prophetic  thunders  roaring,  and  he  saw  flashes 
of  the  lightnings  of  divine  vengeance ;  clouds  and  darkness,  for 
many  a  league,  were  scattered  through  history ;  but  he  saw 
far  away  a  bright  spot — one  place  where  the  clear  shining 
came  down  from  heaven.  And  he  sat  down,  and  he  penned 
these  words :  "  The  people  that  walked  in  darkness  have  seen 
a  great  light :  they  that  dwell  in  the  land  of  the  shadow  of 


16  HIS.NAME — WpNi)ifi4J.F\JL, 

death,  upon  them  hi'.tK  t.hfi.Ii^ht  sliiaed :"  and  though  he  looked 
through  whole  leagues  of  space^  where  iie  ba'ir  the  battle  of  the 
warrior  "  with  confused  noise  and  garments  rolled  in  blood," 
yet  he  fixed  his  eye  upon  one  bright  spot  in  futurity,  and  he 
declared,  that  there  he  saw  hope  of  pe^ce,  prosperity  and 
blessedness ;  for  said  he,  "  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a 
son  is  given  :  and  the  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulder : 
and  his  name  shall  be  called  Wonderful." 

My  dear  friends,  we  live  to-day  upon  the  verge  of  that 
bright  spot.  The  world  has  been  passing  through  these  clouds 
of  darkness,  and  the  light  is  gleaming  on  us  now,  like  the 
glintings  of  the  first  rays  of  morijing.  We  are  coming  to  a 
brighter  day,  and  "  at  evening  time  it  shall  be  light."  The 
clouds  and  darkness  shall  be  rolled  up  as  a  mantle  that  God 
needs  no  longer,  and  he  shall  appear  in  his  glory,  and  his  peo- 
ple shall  rejoice  with  him.  But  you  must  mark,  that  all  the 
brightness  was  the  result  of  this  child  born,  this  son  given, 
whose  name  is  called  Wonderful ;  and  if  we  can  discern  any 
brightness  in  our  own  hearts,  or  in  the  world's  history,  it  can 
come  from  nowhere  else,  than  from  the  one  who  is  called 
"  Wonderful,  Counselor,  the  mighty  God." 

The  person  spoken  of  in  our  text,  is  undoubtedly  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  He  is  a  child  born,  with  reference  to  his  hu- 
man nature ;  he  is  born  of  the  Virgin,  a  child.  But  he  is  a 
son  given,  with  reference  to  his  divine  nature,  being  given  as 
well  as  born.  Of  course,  the  Godhead  could  not  be  born  of 
woman.  That  was  from  everlasting,  and  is  to  everlasting. 
As  a  child  he  was  born,  as  a  son  he  was  given.  "  The  gov- 
ernment is  upon  his  shoulder,  and  his  name  shall  be  called 
Wonderful."  Beloved,  there  are  a  thousand  things  in  this 
world,  that  are  called  by  names  that  do  not  belong  to  them ; 
but  in  entering  upon  my  text,  I  must  announce  at  the  very 
opening,  that  Christ  is  called  Wonderful  because  he  is  so. 
God  the  Father  never  gave  his  Son  a  name  which  he  did  not 
deserve.  There  is  no  panegyric  here,  no  flattery.  It  is  just 
the  simple  name  that  he  deserves ;  they  that  know  him  best 
will  say  that  the  word  doth  not  overstrain  his  merits,  but 
rather  falleth  infinitely  short  of  his  glorious  deserving.     Hia 


HIS   NAME — WONDERFUL.  17 

name  is  called  Wonderful.  And  mark,  it  does  not  merely 
say,  that  God  has  given  him  the  name  of  Wonderful — though 
that  is  implied ;  but  "  his  name  shall  be  called'^''  so.  It  shall 
be ;  it  is  at  this  time  called  Wonderful  by  all  his  believing 
people,  and  it  shall  be.  As  long  as  the  moon  endureth,  there 
shall  be  found  men,  and  angels,  and  glorified  spirits,  who  shall 
always  call  him  by  his  right  name.  "  His  name  shall  be  called 
Wonderful." 

I  find  that  this  name  may  bear  two  or  three  interpretations. 
The  word  is  sometimes  in  Scripture  translated  "  marvelous." 
Jesus  Christ  may  be  called  marvelous;  and  a  learned  Ger- 
man interpreter  says,  that  without  doubt,  the  meaning  of 
miraculous  is  also  wrapped  up  in  it.  Christ  is  the  marvel  of 
marvels,  the  miracle  of  miracles.  "  His  name  shall  be  called 
Miraculous^''  for  he  is  more  than  a  man,  he  is  God's  highest 
miracle.  *'  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness ;  God  Avas  man- 
ifest in  the  flesh."  It  may  also  mean  separated  or  distin- 
guished. And  Jesus  Christ  may  well  be  called  this ;  for  as 
Saul  was  distinguished  from  all  men,  being  head  and  shoulders 
taller  than  they,  so  is  Christ  distinguished  above  all  men ;  he 
is  anointed  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above  his  fellows,  and  in 
his  character,  and  in  his  acts,  he  is  infinitely  separated  from 
all  comparison  with  any  of  the  sons  of  men.  "  Thou  art  fairer 
than  the  children  of  men ;  grace  is  poured  into  thy  lips."  He 
is  "the  chief  among  ten  thousand  and  altogether  lovely." 
"His  name  shall  be  called  the  Separated  One^''  the  distin- 
guished one,  the  noble  one,  set  apart  from  the  common  race 
of  mankind. 

Wo  shall,  however,  this  morning,  keep  to  the  old  version, 
and  simply  read  it  thus,  "  His  name  shall  be  called  Wonder- 
ful." And  first  I  shall  notice  that  Jesus  Christ  deserveth  to 
be  called  Wonderful  for  what  he  was  in  the  past ;  secondly, 
that  he  is  called  Wondorful  by  all  his  people  for  what  lie  is  in 
tlie  present ;  and  in  the  thiid  place^  that  he  shall  be  called 
Wonderful, /o7*  what  he  shall  he  in  the  future, 

I.  First,  Christ  shall  be  called  Wonderful  for  what  he  was 
IN  THE  past.  Gather  up  your  thoughts,  my  brethren,  for  a 
moment,  and  center  them  all  on  Christ,  and  you  will  soon  see 


10  HIS   NAME — WONDERFUL. 

how  wonderful  he  is.  Consider  his  eternal  existence,  "  begot- 
ten of  his  Father  from  before  all  worlds,"  being  of  the  same 
substance  with  his  Father :  begotten,  not  made,  co-equal,  co- 
eternal,  in  every  attribute  "  very  God  of  very  God."  For  a 
moment  remember  that  he  who  became  an  infant  of  a  span 
long,  was  no  less  than  the  King  of  ages,  the  everlasting  Fath- 
er, who  was  from  eternity,  and  is  to  be  to  all  etei'nity.  The 
divine  nature  of  Christ  is  indeed  wonderful.  Just  think  for  a, 
moment,  how  much  interest  clusters  round  the  hfe  of  an  old 
man.  Those  of  us  who  are  but  as  children  in  years,  look  vip 
to  him  with  wonder  and  astonishment,  as  he  tells  us  the  va- 
ried stories  of  the  experience  through  which  he  has  passed. 
But  what  is  the  life  of  an  aged  man  ?  How  brief  it  appears 
when  compared  with  the  life  of  the  tree  that  shelters  him. 
It  existed  long  before  that  old  man's  father  crept,  a  helpless 
infant,  into  the  world.  How  many  storms  have  swept  over  its 
brow !  how  many  kings  have  come  and  gone  !  how  many  em- 
pires have  risen  and  fallen  since  that  old  oak  was  slumbering 
in  its  acorn  cradle ! 

But  what  is  the  life  of  the  tree  compared  with  the  soil  on 
which  it  grows  ?  What  a  wonderful  story  that  soil  might  tell! 
What  changes  it  has  passed  through  in  all  the  eras  of  time  that 
have  elapsed  since,  "  in  the  beginning,  God  created  the  heavens 
and  the  earth."  There  is  a  wonderful  story  connected  with 
every  atom  of  black  mold  which  furnishes  the  nourishment 
of  the  oak.  But  what  is  the  history  of  that  soil  compared 
with  the  marvelous  history  of  the  rock  on  which  it  rests — the 
chff  on  which  it  lifts  its  head  ?  Oh!  what  stories  might  it  tell, 
what  records  lie  hidden  in  its  bow^els.  Perhaps  it  could  tell  the 
story  of  the  time  when  "  the  earth  was  without  form  and  void, 
and  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  earth."  Perhaps  it 
might  speak  and  tell  us  of  those  days  when  the  morning  and 
the  evening  were  the  first  day,  and  ike  morning  and  the  even- 
ing were  the  second  day,  and  could  explain -to  us  the  myster- 
ies of  how  God  made  this  marvelous  piece  of  miracle — the 
world.  But  what  is  the  history  of  the  cliff  compared  with 
that  of  the  sea  that  rolls  at  its  base — that  deep  blue  ocean, 
over  which  a  thousand  navies  have  swept,  without  leaving  a 


HIS   NAME — TVONDEBFTJL.  19 

furrow  upon  its  brow  ?  But  what  is  the  history  of  the  sea 
compared  with  the  history  of  the  heavens  that  are  stretched 
like  a  curtain  over  that  vast  basin  ?  What  a  history  is  that 
of  the  hosts  of  heaven — of  the  everlasting  marches  of  the  sun, 
moon,  and  stars  !  Who  can  tell  their  generation,  or  who  can 
write  their  biography  ?  But  what  is  the  history  of  the  heavens 
compared  with  the  history  of  the  angels  ?  They  could  tell 
you  of  the  day  when  they  saw  this  world  wrapj^ed  in  swad- 
dling bands  of  mist — when,  like  a  new-born  infant,  the  last  of 
God's  offspring,  it  came  forth  from  him,  and  the  morning  stars 
sang  together,  and  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy.  But 
what  is  the  history  of  the  angels  that  excel  in  strength,  com- 
pared with  the  history  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  The  angel 
is  but  of  yesterday,  and  he  knoweth  nothing ;  Christ,  the 
eternal  One,  chargeth  even  his  angels  with  folly,  and  looks 
upon  them  as  his  ministering  spirits,  that  come  and  go  at  his 
good  pleasure.  Oh,  Christians,  gather  with  reverence  and 
mysterious  awe  around  the  throne  of  him  who  is  your 
great  Redeemer ;  for  "  his  name  is  called  Wonderful,"  since 
he  has  existed  before  aU  things,  and  "by,  him  all  things  were 
made;  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing,  made  that  was 
made." 

Consider,  again,  the  incarnation  of  Christ,  and  you  will 
rightly  say  that  his  name  deserveth  to  be  called  "  Wonderful." 
Oh !  what  is  that  I  see  ?  Oh  !  world  of  wonders,  what  is  that 
I  see  ?  The  Eternal  of  ages,  whose  hair  is  white  like  wool,  a§ 
white  as  snow,  becomes  an  infant.  Can  it  be  ?  Ye  angela, 
are  ye  not  astonished  ?  He  becomes  an  infant,  hangs  at  a  vii> 
gin's  breast,  draws  his  nourishment  from  the  breast  of  woman. 
Oh  wonder  of  wonders !  Manger  of  Bethlehem,  thou  hast 
miracles  poured  into  thee  !  This  is  a  sight  that  surpasses  all 
others.  Talk  ye  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars;  consider  ye  the 
heavens,  the  work  of  God's  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars 
that  he  hath  ordained ;  but  all  the  wonders  of  the  universe 
shrink  into  nothing  when  we  come  to  the  mystery  of  the  in- 
carnation of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  a  marvelous 
thing  when  Joshua  bade  the  sun  to  stand  still,  but  more  mar- 
velous when  God  seemed  to  stand  still,  an«l  no  longer  to  movo 


20  HIS   NAME AVOISDEEFUL. 

forward,  but  rather,  like  the  sun  upon  the  dial  of  Ahaz,  did 
go  back  ten  degrees^  and  vail  his  splendor  in  a  cloud.  There 
have  been  sights  matchless  and  wonderful,  at  which  we  might 
look  for  years,  and  yet  turn  away  and  say,  "  I  can  not  under- 
stand this ;  here  is  a  deep  into  which  I  dare  not  dive ;  my 
thoughts  are  drowned ;  this  is  a  steep  without  a  summit ;  I 
can  not  climb  it ;  it  is  high,  I  can  not  attain  it !"  But  all  these 
things  are  as  nothing,  compared  with  the  incarnation  of  the 
Son  of  God.  I  do  believe  that  the  very  angels  have  never 
wondered  but  once,  and  that  has  been  incessantly  ever  since 
they  first  beheld  it.  They  never  cease  to  tell  the  astonisliing 
story,  and  to  tell  it  with  increasing  astonishment  too,  that 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
and  became  a  man.  Is  he  not  rightly  called  Wonderful  ?  In- 
finite, and  an  infant — eternal,  and  yet  born  of  a  woman — Al- 
mighty, and  yet  hanging  on  a  woman's  breast — supporting  the 
universe,  and  yet  needing  to  be  carried  in  a  mother's  arms — 
King  of  angels,  and  yet  the  reputed  son  of  Joseph — heir  of  all 
things,  and  yet  the  carpenter's  despised  son.  Wonderful  art 
thou,  O  Jesus,  and  that  shall  be  thy  name  for  ever. 

But  trace  the  Saviour's  course,  and  all  the  w^ay  he  is  won- 
derful. Is  it  not  marvelous  that  he  submitted  to  the  taunts 
and  jeers  of  his  enemies — that  for  a  long  life  he  should  allow 
the  bulls  of  Bashan  to  gird  him  round,  and  the  dogs  to  en- 
compass him  ?  Is  it  not  surprising  that  he  should  have  bridled 
his  anger,  when  blasphemy  was  uttered  against  his  sacied  per- 
son ?  Had  you  or  I  been  possessed  of  his  matchless  might, 
we  should  have  dashed  our  enemies  down  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  if  they  had  sought  to  cast  us  there ;  we  should  never  have 
submitted  to  shame  and  spitting ;  no,  we  would  have  looked 
upon  them,  and  with  one  fierce  look  of  wrath,  have  dashed 
their  spirits  into  eternal  torment.  But  he  bears  it  all — keeps 
in  his  noble  spirit — the  lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  but  bearing 
stiU  the  lamb -like  character  of 

"  The  humble  man  before  his  foes, 
A  weary  man,  and  full  of  woes." 

I  do  believe  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  the  King  of  heaven, 


HIS   NAME — WONDERFUL.  21 

and  yet  he  was  a  poor,  despised,  persecuted,  slandered  man  ; 
but  while  I  believe  it  I  never  can  understand  it.  I  bless  him 
for  it ;  I  love  him  for  it ;  I  desire  to  praise  his  name  while  im- 
tnortality  endures  for  his  infinite  condescension  in  thus  suffer- 
ing for  me  ;  but  to  understand  it,  I  can  never  pretend.  His 
name  must  all  his  life  long  be  called  Wonderful. 

But  see  him  die.  Come,  O  my  brothers,  ye  children  of  God, 
and  gather  round  the  cross.  See  your  Master.  There  he 
hangs.  Can  you  understand  this  riddle :  God  was  manifest  in 
the  flesh,  and  crucified  of  men  ?  My  Master,  I  can  not  under- 
stand how  thou  couldst  stoop  thine  awful  head  to  such  a  death 
as  this — how  thou  couldst  take  from  thy  brow  the  coronet  of 
stars  which  from  old  eternity  had  shone  resplendent  there  ; 
but  how  thou  shouldst  permit  the  thorn-crown  to  gird  thy 
temples  astonishes  me  far  more.  That  thou  shouldst  cast 
away  the  mantle  of  thy  glory,  the  azure  of  thy  everlasting 
empire,  I  can  not  comprehend  ;  but  how  thou  shouldst  have 
become  vailed  in  the  ignominious  purple  for  awhile,  and  then 
be  bowed  to  by  impious  men,  who  mocked  thee  as  a  pretended 
king,  and  how  thou  shouldst  be  stripped  naked  to  thy  shame, 
without  a  single  covering,  this  is  still  more  incomprehensible. 
Truly  thy  name  is  Wonderful.  Oh  thy  love  to  me  is  wonder- 
ful, passing  the  love  of  woman.  Was  ever  grief  like  thine  ? 
Was  ever  love  like  thine,  that  could  open  the  flood-gates  of 
such  grief.  Thy  grief  is  like  a  river ;  but  was  there  ever 
spring  that  poured  out  such  a  torrent  ?  Was  ever  love  so 
mighty  as  to  become  the  fount  from  which  such  an  ocean  of 
grief  could  come  rolling  down  ?  Here  is  matchless  love — 
matchless  love  to  make  him  suffer,  matchless  power  to  enable 
him  to  endure  all  the  weight  of  his  Father's  wrath.  Here  is 
matchless  justice,  that  he  himself  should  acquiesce  in  his 
Father's  will,  and  not  allow  men  to  be  saved  without  his  own 
sufferings ;  and  here  is  matchless  mercy  to  the  chief  of  sin- 
ners, that  Christ  should  suffer  even  for  them.  "His  name 
shall  be  called  Wonderful." 

But  he  died.  He  died!  See  Salem's  daughters  weep 
around.  Joseph  of  Arimathea  takes  up  the  lifeless  body  after 
it  has  been  taken  down  from  the  cross.     They  bear  it  away  to 


22  HIS    NAME — WONDERFUL. 

the  sepulcher.  It  is  put  in  a  garden.  Do  you  call  him  Won- 
derful now  ? 

"  Is  this  the  Saviour  long  foretold 
To  usher  in  the  age  of  gold  ?" 

And  is  he  dead  ?  Lift  his  hands  !  They  drop  motionless  by 
his  side.  His  foot  exhibits  still  the  nail-print ;  but  there  is  no 
mark  of  life.  *^  Aha,"  cries  the  Jew,  "  is  this  the  Messiah  ? 
He  is  dead ;  he  shall  see  corruption  in  a  little  space  of  time. 
Oh !  watchman,  keep  good  ward  lest  his  disciples  steal  his 
body.  His  body  can  never  come  forth,  unless  they  do  steal 
it ;  for  he  is  dead.  Is  this  the  Wonderful,  the  Counselor  ?" 
But  God  did  not  leave  his  soul  in  Hades,  nor  did  he  suffer  his 
body — "  his  holy  one  " — to  see  corruption  ?  Yes,  he  is  won- 
derful, even  iii  his  death.  That  clay-cold  corpse  is  wonderful. 
Perhaps  this  is  the  greatest  wonder  of  all,  that  he  who  is 
"  Death  of  death  and  hell's  destruction "  should  for  awhile 
endure  the  bonds  of  death.  But  here  is  the  wonder.  He 
could  not  be  holden  of  those  bonds.  Those  chains,  which  have 
held  ten  thousand  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Adam,  and 
which  have  never  been  broken  yet  by  any  man  of  human 
mold,  save  by  a  miracle,  were  but  to  him  as  green  withes. 
Death  bound  our  Samson  fast,  and  said,  "  I  have  him  now ;  I 
have  taken  away  the  locks  of  his  strength ;  his  glory  is  de- 
parted, and  now  he  is  mine."  But  the  bands  that  kept  the 
human  race  in  chains  were  nothing  to  the  Saviour  ;  the  third 
day  he  burst  them,  and  he  rose  again  from  the  dead,  from 
henceforth  to  llie  no  more.  Oh !  thou  risen  Saviour — thou 
who  couldst  not  see  corruption — thou  art  wonderful  in  thy  res- 
urrection. And  thou  art  wonderful  too  in  thine  ascension, 
as  I  see  thee  leading  captivity  captive  and  receiving  gifts  for 
men.     "  His  name  shall  be  called  Wonderful." 

Pause  here  one  moment,  and  let  us  think — Christ  is  surpass- 
ingly wonderful.  The  little  story  I  have  told  you  just  now 
— not  little  in  itself,  but  Kttle  as  I  have  told  it — has  in  it  some- 
thing surpassingly  wonderful.  All  the  wonders  that  you  ever 
saw  are  nothing  compared  with  this.  As  we  have  passed 
through  various  countries  we  have  seen  a  wonder,  and  some 
older  traveler  than  ourselves  has  said,  "  Yes,  this  is  wonderful 


HTS    NAME — WONDERFUL.  23 

to  you,  but  T  could  show  you  something  that  utterly  eclipses 
that."  Though  we  have  seen  some  splendid  landscapes,  with 
glorious  hills,  and  we  have  climbed  up  where  the  eagle  seemed 
to  knit  the  mountain  and  the  sky  together  in  his  flight,  and 
we  have  stood  and  looked  down,  and  said,  "How  wonderful!" 
saith  he,  "  I  have  seen  fairer  lauds  than  these,  and  wider  and 
richer  prospects  far."  But  when  we  speak  of  Christ,  none  can 
say  they  ever  saw  a  greater  wonder  than  he  is.  You  have 
come  now  to  the  very  summit  of  every  thing  that  may  be 
wondered  at.  There  are  no  mysteries  equal  to  this  mystery ; 
there  is  no  surprise  equal  to  this  surprise ;  there  is  no  aston- 
ishment, no  admiration  that  should  equal  the  astonishment  and 
admiration  that  we  feel  when  we  behold  Christ  in  the  glories 
of  the  past.     He  surpasses  every  thing. 

And  yet  again.  Wonder  is  a  short-lived  emotion ;  you  know, 
it  is  proverbial  that  a  wonder  grows  gray-headed  in  nine  days. 
The  longest  period  that  a  wonder  is  known  to  live  is  about  that 
time.  It  is  such  a  short-lived  thing.  But  Christ  is,  and  ever 
shall  be  wonderful.  You  may  think  of  him  through  threescore 
years  and  ten,  but  you  shall  wonder  at  him  more  at  the  end 
than  at  the  beginning.  Abraham  might  wonder  at  him,  when 
he  saw  his  day  in  the  distant  future  ;  but  I  do  not  think  that 
even  Abraham  himself  could  wonder  at  Christ  so  much  as  the 
very  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  of  to-day  wonders  at 
him,  seeing  that  we  know  more  than  Abraham,  and  therefore 
wonder  more.  Think  again  for  one  moment,  and  you  will  say 
of  Christ  that  he  deserves  to  be  called  Wonderful,  not  only 
because  he  is  always  wonderful,  and  because  he  is  surpassingly 
wonderful,  but  also  because  he  is  altogether  wonderful.  There 
have  been  some  great  feats  of  skill  in  the  arts  and  sciences ; 
for  instance,  if  we  take  a  common  wonder  of  the  day,  the 
telegraph — how  much  there  is  about  that  which  is  wonderful ! 
But  there  are  a  great  many  things  in  the  telegraph  that  we 
can  understand.  Though  there  are  many  mysteries  in  it,  still 
there  are  parts  of  it  that  are  like  keys  to  the  mysteries,  so  that 
if  we  can  not  solve  the  riddle  wholly,  yet  it  is  disrobed  of 
some  of  the  low  garments  of  its  mystery.  But  now  if  you 
look  at  Christ  any  how,  any  where,  any  way,  he  is  all  mys- 


24  HIS    NAME — WONDERFUL. 

tery ;  he  is  altogether  wonderful,  always  to  be  looked  at  and 
always  to  be  admired. 

And  again,  he  is  universally  wondered  at.  They  tell  us  that 
the  religion  of  Christ  is  very  good  for  old  women.  I  was 
once  complimented  by  a  person,  who  told  me  he  believed  my 
preaching  would  be  extremely  suitable  for  blacks — for  negroes. 
He  did  not  intend  it  as  a  compliment,  but  I  replied,  "  Well, 
sir,  if  it  was  suitable  for  blacks,  I  should  think  it  would  be 
very  suitable  for  whites ;  for  there  is  only  a  little  diiference 
of  skin,  and  I  do  not  preach  to  people's  skins,  but  to  their 
hearts."  Now,  of  Christ  we  can  say,  that  he  is  universally  a 
wonder  ;  the  strongest  intellects  have  wondered  at  him.  Our 
Lookes  and  our  Newtons  have  felt  themselves  to  be  as  little 
children  when  they  have  come  to  the  foot  of  the  cross.  The 
wonder  has  not  been  confined  to  ladies,  to  children,  to  old 
women  and  dying  men ;  the  highest  intellects,  and  the  loftiest 
minds  have  all  wondered  at  Christ.  I  am  sure  it  is  a  difficult 
task  to  make  some  people  wonder.  Hard  thinkers  and  close 
mathematicians  are  not  easily  brought  to  wonder ;  but  such 
men  have  covered  their  faces  with  their  hands  and  cast  them- 
selves in  the  dust,  Snd  confessed  that  they  have  been  lost  in 
wonder  and  amazement.  Well  then  may  Christ  be  called 
Wonderful. 

H.  "  His  name  shall  be  called  Wonderful."  He  is  wonderful 
for  WHAT  HE  IS  IN  THE  PRESEifT.  And  here  I  will  not  diverge, 
but  will  just  appeal  to  you  personally.  Is  he  wonderful  to  yoxi,  f 
Let  me  tell  the  story  of  my  own  wonderment  at  Christ,  and 
in  telling  it,  I  shall  be  telling  the  experience  of  all  God's  chil- 
dren. There  was  a  time  when  I  wondered  not  at  Christ.  I 
heard  of  his  beauties,  but  I  had  never  seen  them ;  I  heard  of 
his  power,  but  it  was  nought  to  me ;  it  was  but  news  of  some- 
thing done  in  a  far  country — I  had  no  connection  with  it,  and 
therefore  I  observed  it  not.  But  once  upon  a  time,  there 
came  one  to  my  house  of  a  black  and  terrible  aspect.  He 
smote  the  door  ;  I  tried  to  bolt  it,  to  hold  it  fast.  He  smote 
again  and  again,  till  at  last  he  entered,  and  with  a  rough  voice 
he  summoned  me  before  him ;  and  he  said,  "  I  have  a  message 
from  God  for  thee ;  thou  art  condemned  on  account  of  thy 


HIS   NAME WONDEBFUL.  25 

sins."  I  looked  at  him  with  astonishment ;  I  asked  him  his 
name.  He  said,  "  My  name  is  the  Law  ;"  and  I  fell  at  his 
feet  as  one  that  was  dead.  "  I  was  alive  without  the  law 
once ;  but  when  the  commandment  came,  sin  revived,  and  I 
died."  As  I  lay  there,  he  smote  me.  He  smote  me  till  every 
rib  seemed  as  if  it  must  break,  and  the  bowels  be  poured  forth. 
My  heart  was  melted  like  wax  within  me ;  I  seemed  to  be 
stretched  upon  a  rack — to  be  pinched  with  hot  irons — to  be 
beaten  mth  whips  of  burning  wire.  A  misery  extreme  dwelt 
and  reigned  in  my  heart.  I  dared  not  Hft  up  mine  eyes,  but  I 
thought  within  myself,  "There  may  be  hope,  there  may  be 
mercy  for  me.  Perhaps  the  God  whom  I  have  offended  may 
accept  my  tears,  and  my  promises  of  amendment,  and  I  may 
live."  But  when  that  thought  crossed  me,  heavier  were  the 
blows  and  more  poignant  my  sufferings  than  before,  till  hope 
entirely  failed  me,  and  I  had  nought  wherein  to  trust.  Dark- 
ness black  and  dense  gathered  around  me  ;  I  heard  a  voice  as 
it  were,  of  rushing  to  and  fro,  and  of  waiUng  and  gnashing  of 
teeth.  I  said  within  ray  soul,'  "  I  am  cast  out  from  his  sight, 
I  am  utterly  abhorred  of  God ;  he  hath  trampled  me  in  the 
mire  of  the  streets  in  his  anger."  And  there  came  one  by  of 
sorrowful  but  of  loving  aspect,  and  he  stooped  over  me,  and 
be  said,  "  Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead, 
and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light."  I  arose  in  astonishment, 
and  he  took  me,  and  he  led  me  to  a  place  where  stood  a  cross, 
and  he  seemed  to  vanish  from  my  sight.  But  he  appeared 
again  hanging  there.  I  looked  upon  him  as  he  bled  upon  that 
tree.  His  eyes  darted  a  glance  of  love  unutterable  into  my 
spirit,  and  in  a  moment,  looking  at  him,  the  bruises  that  my 
soul  had  suffered  were  healed ;  the  gaping  wounds  were 
cured ;  the  broken  bones  rejoiced ;  the  rags  that  had  covered 
me  were  all  removed ;  ray  spirit  was  white  as  the  spotless 
snows  of  the  fiir  off  North ;  I  had  melody  within  my  spirit,  for 
I  was  saved,  washed,  cleansed,  forgiven,  through  him  tliat  did 
bang  upon  the  tree.  Oh,  how  I  wondered  that  I  should  be 
pardoned  I  It  was  not  the  pardon  that  I  wondered  at  so 
much  ;  the  wonder  was  that  it  should  come  to  me.  I  won- 
dered that  he  should  be  able  to  pardon  such  sins  as  mine,  such 


26  HIS   NAME — WONDEEPFL. 

crimes,  so  numerous  and  so  black,  and  that  after  such  an  ac- 
cusing conscience  he  should  have  power  to  still  every  wave 
within  my  spirit,  and  make  my  soul  like  the  surface  of  a  river, 
undisturbed,  quiet,  and  at  ease.  His  name  then  to  my  spirit 
was  Wonderful.  But,  brethren  and  sisters,  if  you  have  felt 
this,  you  can  say  you  thought  him  wonderful  then — if  you  are 
feeling  it,  a  sense  of  adoring  wonder  enraptures  your  heart 
even  now. 

And  has  he  not  been  wonderful  to  you  since  that  auspicious 
hour  when  first  you  heard  Mercy's  voice  spoken  to  you? 
How  often  have  you  been  in  sadness,  sickness,  and  sorrow ! 
But  your  pain  has  been  light,  for  Jesus  Christ  has  been  w^th 
you  on  your  sick-beds ;  your  care  has  been  no  care  at  all,  for 
you  have  been  able  to  cast  your  burden  upon  him.  The  trial 
which  threatened  to  crush  you,  rather  lifted  you  up  to  heaven, 
and  you  have  said,  "  How  wonderful  that  Jesus  Christ's  name 
should  give  me  such  comfort,  such 'joy,  such  peace,  such  confi- 
dence." Various  things  bring  to  my  recollection  a  period  now 
removed  by  the  space  of  nearly  two  years.  Never  shall  we 
forget,  beloved,  the  judgments  of  the  Lord,  when  by  terrible 
things  in  righteousness  he  answered  our  prayer  that  he  would 
give  us  success  in  this  house.  We  can  not  forget  how  the  peo- 
ple were  scattered — how  some  of  the  sheep  were  slain,  and  the 
shepherd  himself  was  smitten.  I  may  not  have  told  in  your 
hearing  the  story  of  my  own  woe.  Perhaps  never  soul  went  so 
near  the  burning  furnace  of  insanity,  and  yet  came  away  un- 
harmed. I  have  Avalked  by  that  fire  until  these  locks  seemed  to 
be  crisp  with  the  heat  thereof.  My  brain  was  racked.  I  dared 
not  look  up  to  God,  and  prayer  that  was  once  my  solace,  was 
the  cause  of  my  aifright  and  terror,  if  I  attempted  it.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  time  when  I  first  became  restored  to  myself. 
It  was  in  the  garden  of  a  friend.  I  was  walking  solitary  and 
alone,  musing  upon  ray  misery,  much  cheered  as  that  was  by 
the  kindness  of  my  loving  friend,  yet  far  too  heavy  for  my  soul 
to  bear,  when  on  a  sudden  the  name  of  Jesus  flashed  through 
my  mind.  The  person  of  Christ  seemed  visible  to  me.  I 
stood  still.  The  burning  lava  of  my  soul  was  cooled.  My 
agonies  were  hushed.     I  bowed  myself  there,  and  the  garden 


HIS    KAME — ^WO^NDEErUL.  27 

that  had  seemed  a  Gethsemane  becarae  to  rae  a  Paradise. 
And  then  it  seemed  so  strange  to  me  thut  nought  should  have 
brought  me  back  but  that  name  of  Jesus.  I  thouglit  indeed 
at  that  time  that  I  should  love  him  better  all  the  days  of  my 
life.  But  there  were  two  things  I  wondered  at.  I  wondered 
that  he  should  be  so  good  to  me,  and  I  wondered  more  that 
I  should  have  been  so  ungrateful  to  him.  But  his  name  has 
been  from  that  time  "  Wonderful"  to  me,  and  I  must  record 
what  he  has  done  for  my  soul. 

And  now,  brothers  and  sisters,  you  shall  all  find,  every  day 
of  your  life,  whatever  your  trials  and  troubles,  that  he  shall 
always  be  made  the  more  wonderful  by  them.  He  sends  your 
troubles  to  be  like  a  black  foil,  to  make  the  diamond  of  his 
name,  shine  the  brighter.  You  would  never  know  the  won- 
ders of  God  if  it  were  not  that  you  find  them  out  in  the  fur- 
nace. "  They  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ship^  that  do  busi- 
ness in  great  waters,  these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his 
wonders  in  the  deep ;"  and  we  shall  never  see  the  wonders 
of  God  except  in  that  deep;  we  must  go  into  the  deeps  before 
we  know  how  wonderful  are  his  power  and  his  might  to  save. 

I  must  not  leave  this  point  without  one  more  remark. 
There  have  been  times  when  you  and  I  have  said  of  Christ, 
"  His  name  is  wonderful  indeed,  for  we  have  been  by  it  trans- 
ported entirely  above  the  world,  and  carried  upward  to  the 
very  gates  of  heaven  itself."  I  pity  you,  beloved,  if  you  do 
not  understand  the  rhapsody  I  am  about  to  use.  There  are 
moments  when  the  Christian  feels  the  charms  of  earth  all 
broken,  and  his  wings  are  loosed,  and  he  begins  to  fly ;  and 
up  he  soars,  till  he  forgets  earth's  sorrows  and  leaves  them  far 
behind  ;  and  up  he  goes,  till  he  forgets  earth's  joys,  and  leaves 
them  like  the  mountain  tops  far  below,  as  when  the  eagle  flies 
to  meet  the  sun  ;  and  up,  up,  up  he  goes,  with  his  Saviour  full 
before  him  almost  in  vision  beatific.  His  heart  is  full  of  Christ ; 
his  soul  beholds  his  Saviour,  and  the  cloud  that  darkened  his 
view  of  the  Saviour's  face  seems  to  be  dispersed.  At  such 
a  time  the  Christian  can  sympathise  with  Paul.  He  says, 
"Whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body  I  can  not  tell — God 
knoweth  !"  but  I  am,  as  it  were,  "  caught  up  to  the  third  hea^ 


28  HIS   NAME — WONDERFUL. 

ven."  And  how  is  this  rapture  produced  ?  By  the  music  of 
flute,  harp,  sackbut,  psaltery,  and  all  kinds  of  instruments  ? 
No.  How  then?  By  riches?  By  fame  ?  By  wealth  ?  Ah, 
no.  By  a  strong  mind  ?  By  a  lively  disposition  ?  No.  By 
the  name  of  Jesus.  That  one  name  is  all  suiEcient  to  lead  the 
Christian  into  heights  of  transport  that  verge  upon  the  region 
where  the  angels  fly  in  cloudless  day. 

in.  I  have  no  more  time  to  stay  upon  this  point,  although 
the  text  is  infinite,  and  one  might  preach  upon  it  for  ever.  I 
have  only  to  notice  that  his  name  shall  be  called  Wonderful 

EN"   THE   FUTURE. 

The  day  is  come,  the  day  of  wrath,  the  day  of  fire.  The 
ages  are  ended ;  the  last  century,  like  the  last  pillar  of  a  di- 
lapidated temple,  has  crumbled  to  its  fall.  The  clock  o^  time 
is  verging  to  its  last  hour.  It  is  on  the  stroke.  The  time  is 
come  when  the  things  that  are  made  must  disappear.  Lo,  I 
see  earth's  bowels  moving.  A  thousand  hillocks  give  up  the 
slumbering  dead.  The  battle  fields  are  clothed  no  more  with 
the  rich  harvests  that  have  been  manured  with  blood ;  but  a 
new  harvest  has  sprung  up.  The  fields  are  thick  with  men. 
The  sea  itself  becomes  a  prolific  mother,  and  though  she  hath 
swallowed  men  alive,  she  gives  them  up  again,  and  they  stand 
before  God,  an  exceeding  great  army.  Sinners  !  ye  have  liseu 
from  your  tombs  ;  the  pillars  of  heaven  are  reeling  ;  the  sky 
is  moving  to  and  fro  ;  the  sun,  the  eye  of  this  great  world,  is 
rolling  like  a  maniac's,  and  glaring  with  dismay.  The  moon 
that  long  has  cheered  the  night  now  makes  the  darkness  ter- 
rible, for  she  is  turned  into  a  clot  of  blood.  Portents,  and 
signs,  and  wonders  past  imagination,  make  the  heavens  shake, 
and  make  men's  hearts  quail  within  them.  Suddenly  upon  a 
cloud  there  comes  one  like  unto  the  Son  of  Man.  Sinners ! 
picture  your  astonishment  and  your  wonder  when  you  see  him. 
Where  art  thou,  Voltaire  ?  Thou  saidst,  "  I  will  crush  the 
wretch."  Come  and  crush  him  now  !  "  Nay,"  saith  Voltaire, 
"he  is  not  the  man  I  thought  he  was."  Oh  how  will  he  won- 
der when  he  finds  out  what  Christ  is  !  Now,  Judas,  come  and 
give  him  a  traitor's  kiss  !  "  Ah  !  nay,"  says  he,  "  I  knew  not 
what  I  kissed  ;  I  thought  I  kissed  only  the  son  of  Mary,  but 


HIS   NAME — ^WONDERFUL.  29 

lo  !  he  is  the  everlasting  God."  Now,  ye  kings  and  princes, 
that  stood  up  and  took  counsel  together  against  the  Lord  and 
against  his  anointed,  saying,  "Let  us  break  his  bands  asunder, 
and  cast  his  cords  from  us !"  come  now ;  take  counsel  once 
more ;  rebel  against  him  now !  Oh  !  can  ye  picture  the 
astonishment,  the  wonder,  the  dismay,  when  careless,  godless 
infidels  and  Socinians  find  out  what  Christ  is  ?  "  Oh  !"  they 
will  say,  "  this  is  wonderful ;  I  thought  not  he  was  such  as 
this  ;"  while  Christ  shall  say  to  them,  "  Thou  thoughtest  that 
I  was  altogether  such  as  yourselves ;  but  I  am  no  such  thhig ; 
I  am  come  in  all  my  Father's  glory  to  judge  the  quick  and 
dead." 

Pharaoh  led  his  hosts  into  the  midst  of  the  Red  Sea.  The 
path  was  dry  and  shingly,  and  on  either  shore  stood,  like  a  wall 
of  alabaster,  the  clear  white  water,  stiff  as  with  the  breath  of 
frost,  consolidated  into  marble.  There  it  stood.  Can  ye  guess 
the  astonishment  and  dismay  of  the  hosts  of  Pharaoh  when 
they  saw  those  walls  of  water  about  to  close  upon  them  ? 
"  Behold,  ye  despisers,  and  wonder,  and  perish  !"  Such  will 
be-  your  astonishment  when  Christ,  whom  ye  have  despised 
to-day — Chi-ist,  whom  ye  would  not  have  to  be  your  Saviour 
— Christ,  whose  Bible  ye  left  unread,  whose  Sabbath  ye  de- 
spised— Christ,  whose  gospel  ye  rejected,  shall  come  in  the 
glory  of  his  Father,  and  all  his  holy  angels  with  him.  Ay, 
then  indeed  will  ye  "behold,  and  wonder,  and  perish,"  and 
shall  say,  "  His  name  is  Wonderful." 

But  perhaps  the  most  wonderful  part  of  the  day  of  judg- 
ment is  this :  do  you  see  all  the  horrors  yonder — the  black 
darkness,  the  horrid  night,  the  clashing  comets,  the  pale  stars, 
sickly  and  wan,  falling  like  figs  from  the  fig-tree  ?  Do  you 
hear  the  cry,  "  Rocks,  hide  us,  mountains,  on  us  fall  ?"  "  Every 
battle  of  the  warrior  is  with  confused  noise  ;"  but  there  never 
was  a  battle  like  this.  This  is  with  fire  and  smoke  indeed. 
But  do  yc  see  yonder  ?  All  is  peaceful,  all  serene  and  quiet. 
The  myriads  of  the  redeemed,  are  they  shrieking,  crying, 
wailing  ?  No ;  see  them  I  They  are  gathering — gathering 
round  the  throne.  That  very  throne  that  seems  to  scatter,  as 
with  a  hundred  hands,  death  and  destruction  on  the  wicked, 


80  HIS    NAME WONDERFUL. 

becomes  the  sun  of  light  and  happiness  to  all  "believers.  Do 
you  see  them  coming,  robed  in  white,  with  their  bright  wings, 
while  gathering  round  him  they  vail  their  faces  ?  Do  you  hear 
them  cry,  *'  Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  God  of  hosts,  for  thou  wast 
slain,  and  thou  hast  risen  from  the  dead  ;  worthy  ait  thou  to 
live  and  reign,  when  death  itself  is  dead  ?"  Do  ye  hear  them  ? 
It  is  all  song,  and  no  shriek.  Do  ye  see  them  ?  It  is  all  joy, 
and  no  terror.  His  name  to  them  is  Wonderful ;  but  it  is  the 
wonder  of  admiration,  the  wonder  of  ecstasy,  the  wonder  of 
affection,  and  not  the  wonder  of  horror  and  dismay.  Saints 
of  the  Lord  !  ye  shall  know  the  wonders  of  his  name,  when 
ye  shall  see  him  as  he  is,  and  shall  be  like  him  in  the  day  of 
his  appearing.  Oh  !  my  enraptured  spirit,  thou  shalt  bear  thy 
part  in  thy  Redeemer's  triumph,  unworthy  though  thou  art, 
the  chief  of  sinners,  and  less  than  the  least  of  saints.  Thine 
eye  shall  see  him  and  not  another ;  "  I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer liveth,  and  when  he  shall  stand  in  the  latter  day  upon 
the  earth,  though  worms  devour  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh 
shall  I  see  God."  Oh !  make  yourselves  ready,  ye  virgins  I 
Behold  the  bridegroom  cometh.  Arise  and  trim  your  lamps, 
and  go  ye  out  to  meet  him.  He  comesr— he  comes — ^he  comes ! 
and  when  he  comes,  you  shall  well  say  of  him,  as  you  meet 
him  with  joy,  "  Thy  name  is  called  Wonderful.  All  haU !  all 
hail!  all  hail!" 


SERMON  II. 
HIS  NAME  — THE    COUNSELOR. 

"  For  unto  na  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given  :  and  the  government 
shall  be  upon  his  shoulder:  and  his  name  shall  be  called  'Wonderful,  Coun- 
selor."— ISATAH,  ix.  6. 

Last  Sabbath  morning  we  considered  the  first  title,  "  His 
name  shall  be  called  Wonderful :"  this  morning  we  take  the 
second  word,  "  Counselor."  I  need  not  repeat  the  remark, 
that  of  course  these  titles  belong  only  to  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  that  we  can  not  understand  the  passage  except  by 
referring  it  to  Messiah — the  Prince.  It  was  by  a  Counselor 
that  this  world  was  ruined.  Did  not  Satan  mask  himself  in 
the  serpent,  and  counsel  the  woman  with  exceeding  craftiness, 
that  she  should  take  unto  herself  of  the  fi  uit  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  in  the  hope  that  tliereby  she 
should  be  as  God  ?  "Was  it  not  that  evil  counsel  which  pro- 
voked our  mother  to  rebel  against  her  Maker,  and  did  it  not, 
as  the  effect  of  sin,  bring  death  into  this  world  with  all  its 
train  of  woe  ?  Ah !  beloved,  it  was  meet  that  this  world 
should  have  a  Counselor  to  restore  it,  if  it  had  a  Counselor 
to  destroy  it.  It  was  by  counsel  that  it  fell,  and  certainly 
without  counsel  it  never  could  have  arisen.  But  mark  the 
difficulties  that  surrounded  such  a  Counselor.  'Tis  easy  to 
counsel  mischief;  but  how  hard  to  counsel  wisely !  To  cast 
down  is  easy,  but  to  build  up,  how  hard !  To  confuse  this 
world,  and  bring  upon  it  all  its  train  of  ills  was  an  easy  thing ; 
a  woman  plucked  the  fruit  and  it  was  done.  But  to  restore 
order  to  this  confusion,  to  sweep  away  the  evils  which  brood- 
ed over  this  fair  earth,  this  was  work  indeed,  and  '*  Wonder- 
ful" was  tliat  Christ  who  came  forward  to  attempt  the  work, 
and  who  in  the  plenitude  of  his  wisdom  hath  certainly  accom- 


32  HIS    NAME — THE    COUNSELOR. 

plished  it,  to  his  own  honor  and  glory,  and  to  our  comfort  and 
safety. 

We  shall  now  enter  upon  the  discussion  of  this  title  which 
is  given  to  Christ,  a  title  peculiar  to  our  Redeemer ;  and  you 
will  see  why  it  should  be  given  to  him,  and  why  there  was  a 
necessity  for  such  a  Counselor. 

INi  ow,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  a  Counselor  in  a  threefold 
sense.  First,  he  is  GocVs  Counselor ;  he  sits  in  the  cabinet 
council  of  the  King  of  heaven ;  he  has  admittance  into  the 
privy  chamber,  and  is  the  Counselor  with  God.  In  the  sec 
ond  place,  Christ  is  a  Counselor  in  the  sense  which  the  Sep- 
tuagint  translation  appends  to  this  term.  Christ  is  said  to  be 
the  angel  of  the  great  council.  He  is  a  Counselor  in  that  he 
communicates  to  us,  in  God's  behalf,  what  has  been  done  in 
the  great  council  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  And 
thirdly,  Christ  is  a  Counselor  to  us  and  with  us,  because  we 
can  consult  with  him,  and  he  doth  counsel  and  advise  us  as  to 
the  right  way  and  the  path  of  peace. 

I.  Beginning,  then,  with  the  first  point,  Christ  may  well  be 
called  Counselor,  for  he  is  a  Counselor  with  God.  And 
here  let  us  speak  with  reverence,  for  we  are  about  to  enter 
upon  a  very  solemn  subject.  It  hath  been  revealed  to  us  that 
before  the  world  was,  when  as  yet  God  had  not  made  the 
stars,  long  ere  space  sprang  into  being,  the  Almighty  God  did 
hold  a  solemn  conclave  with  himself;  Father,  Son  and  Spirit 
held  a  mystic  council  with  each  other,  as  to  what  they  were 
about  to  do.  That  council,  although  we  read  but  little  of  it 
in  Scripture,  was  nevertheless  most  certainly  held ;  we  have 
abundant  traces  of  it,  for  though  it  is  a  doctrine  obscure 
through  the  eifulgence  of  that  light  to  which  no  man  can  ap- 
proach, and  not  simply  and  didactically  explained,  as  some 
other  doctrines  are,  yet  we  have  continual  tracings  and  inci- 
dental mentionings  of  that  great,  eternal,  and  wonderful  coun- 
cil which  was  held  between  the  three  glorious  persons  of  the 
Trinity  before  the  world  began.  Our  first  question  with  our- 
selves is,  why  did  God  hold  a  council  at  all  ?  And  here,  we 
must  answer,  that  God  did  not  hold  a  council  because  of  any 
deficiency  in  his  knowledge,  for  God  understandeth  all  things 


HIS    NAME — THE    COUNSELOR.  83 

from  the  beginning ;  his  knowledge  is  the  sum  total  of  every- 
thing that  is  noble,  and  infinite  is  that  sura  total,  infinitely 
above  every  thing  that  is  counted  noble  by  us.  Thou,  O  God, 
hast  thoughts  that  are  unsearchable,  and  thou  knowest  what 
no  mortal  ken  can  ever  attain  unto.  Nor,  again,  did  God 
hold  any  consultation  for  the  increase  of  his  satisfaction. 
Sometimes  men,  when  they  have  determined  what  to  do,  will 
nevertheless  seek  counsel  of  their  friends,  because  they  say, 
"  If  their  advice  agrees  with  mine  it  adds  to  my  satisfaction, 
and  confirms  me  in  my  resolution."  But  God  is  everlastingly 
satisfied  with  himself,  and  knoweth  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt 
to  cloud  his  purpose ;  therefore,  the  council  was  not  held  with 
any  motive  or  intent  of  that  sort.  Nor,  again,  was  it  held 
with  a  view  of  dehberation.  Men  take  weeks  and  months  and 
sometimes  years,  to  think  out  a  thing  that  is  surrounded  with 
difficulties ;  they  have  to  find  the  clue  with  much  research ; 
enveloped  in  folds  of  mystery,  they  have  to  take  off  first  one 
garment  and  then  another,  before  they  find  out  the  naked,  glo- 
rious truth.  Not  so  God.  God's  deliberations  are  as  flashes 
of  lightning ;  they  are  as  wise  as  if  he  had  been  eternally  con- 
sidering, but  the  thoughts  of  his  heart,  though  swift  as  light- 
ning, are  as  perfect  as  the  whole  system  of  the  universe.  The 
reason  why  God  is  represented  as  holding  a  council,  if  I  think 
rightly,  is  this :  that  we  might  understand  how  wise  God  is. 
"  In  the  multitude  of  counselors  there  is  wisdom."  It  is  for 
us  to  think  that  in  the  council  of  the  Eternal  Three,  each  per- 
son in  the  undivided  Trinity  being  omniscient  and  full  of  wis- 
dom, there  must  have  been  the  sum  total  of  all  wisdom.  And 
again,  it  was  to  show  the  unanimity  and  cooperation  of  the 
sacred  persons :  God  the  Father  hath  done  nothing  alone  in 
creation  or  salvation.  Jesus  Christ  hath  done  nothing  alone  ; 
for  even  the  work  of  his  redemption,  albeit  that  he  suffered  in 
some  sense  alone,  needed  the  sustaining  hand  of  the  Spirit,  and 
the  accepting  smile  of  the  Father,  before  it  could  be  comjjlet- 
ed.  God  said  not,  "  I  will  make  man,"  but  "  let  us  make  man 
in  our  own  image."  God  saith  not  merely,  "  I  will  save,"  but 
the  inference  from  the  declaration  of  Scripture  is,  that  the  de- 
sign of  the  three  persons  of  the  blesso4  Trinity  was  to  save  a 

2* 


34  HIS    NAME — THE    COUNSELOE. 

people  to  themselves,  who  should  show  forth  their  praise.  It 
was,  then,  for  our  sakes,  not  for  God's  sake,  the  council  was 
held — that  we  might  know  the  unanimity  of  the  glorious  per- 
sons, and  the  deep  wisdom  of  their  devices. 

Yet  another  remark  concerning  the  council.  It  may  be 
asked,  "  What  were  the  topics  deliberated  upon  at  that  first 
council,  which  was  held  before  the  day-star  knew  its  place, 
and  planets  ran  their  round  ?"  We  reply,  "  The  first  topic 
was  creation."  We  are  told  in  the  passage  We  have  read 
(Proverbs  viii.),  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  represents 
himself  as  Wisdom,  was  with  God  before  the  w^orld  was  cre- 
ated, and  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  we  are  to  un- 
derstand this  as  meaning,  that  he  not  only  was  with  God  in 
company,  but  with  God  in  cooperation.  Besides,  we  have 
other  Scriptures  to  prove  that  "  all  things  were  made  by  him, 
and  without  him  was  not  any  thing  made  that  was  made." 
And  to  quote  yet  another  passage  that  clinches  this  truth. 
God  said,  "  Let  us  make  mmi  y"  so  that  a  part  of  the  consul- 
tation was  with  reference  to  the  making  of  worlds,  and  the 
creatures  that  should  inhabit  them.  I  believe  that  in  the  sov- 
ereign council  of  eternity,  the  mountains  were  weighed  in 
scales,  and  the  hills  in  balance ;  then  was  it  fixed  in  sovereign 
council  how  far  the  sea  should  go,  and  where  should  be  its 
bounds — when  the  sun  shall  arise  and  come  forth,  like  a  giant 
fi'om  the  chambers  of  his  darkness,  and  when  he  should  return 
again  to  his  couch  of  rest.  Then  did  God  decree  the  moment 
when  he  should  say,  "  Let  there  be  light,"  and  the  moment 
w:hen  the  sun  should  be  turned  into  darkness,  and  the  moon 
into  a  clot  of  blood.  Then  did  he  ordain  the  form  and  size 
of  every  angel,  and  the  destinies  of  every  creature  ;  then  did 
he  sketch  in  his  infinite  thought,  the  eagle  as  he  soared  to 
heaven,  and  the  worm  as  he  burrowed  into  the  earth.  Then 
the  little  as  well  as  the  great,  the  minute  as  well  as  the  im- 
mense, came  under  the  sovereign  decree  of  God.  There  was 
that  book  written,  of  which  Dr.  Watts  sings — 

"  Chained  to  his  throne  a  volume  lies, 
With  all  the  fates  of  men, 
With  every  angel's  form  and  size, 
Prawn  by  th'  ethereal  pen." 


HIS    NAME — ^THE    COUNSELOR.  35 

Christ  was  a  Counselor  in  the  matter  of  creation  ;  with  none 
else  took  he  counsel ;  none  else  instructed  him.  Christ  was 
the  Counselor  for  all  the  wondrous  works  of  God. 

The  second  topic  that  was  discussed  in  this  council  was  the 
%cork  of  providence.  God  does  not  act  towards  this  world 
like  a  man  who  makes  a  watch,  and  lets  it  have  its  own  way- 
till  it  runs  down  ;  he  is  the  controller  of  every  wheel  in  the 
machine  of  providence.  He  has  left  nothing  to  itself.  We 
talk  of  general  laws,  and  philosophers  tell  us  that  the  world  is 
governed  by  laws,  and  then  they  put  the  Almighty  out  of  the 
question.  Now,  how  can  a  nation  be  governed  by  laws  apart 
from  a  sovereign,  or  apart  from  i^agistrates  and  rulers  to  carry 
out  the  laws  ?  All  the  laws  may  be  in  the  statute  book,  but 
put  all  the  police  away,  take  away  every  magistrate,  remove 
the  high  court  of  Parliament,  what  is  the  use  of  laws  ?  Laws 
can  not  govern  without  active  agency  to  carry  them  out ;  nor 
could  nature  proceed  in  its  everlasting  cycles  by  the  mere 
force  of  law.  God  is  the  great  motive  power  of  all  things; 
he  is  in  every  thing.  Not  only  did  he  make  all  things,  but 
by  him  all  things  consist.  From  all  eternity,  Christ  was  the 
Counselor  of  his  Father  with  regard  to  providence  ;  when  the 
first  man  should  be  born,  when  he  should  wander,  aiid  when 
he  should  be  restored ;  when  the  first  monarchy  should  rise, 
and  when  its  sun  should  set ;  where  his  people  should  be 
placed,  how  long  they  should  be  placed,  and  where  they 
should  be  moved.  Was  it  not  the  Most  High  who  divided 
to  the  nations  their  inheritance  ?  Hath  he  not  appointed  the 
bounds  of  our  habitation  ?  Oh  !  heir  of  heaven,  in  the  day  of 
the  great  council,  Christ  counseled  his  Father  as  to  the  weight 
of  thy  trials,  as  to  the  number  of  thy  mercies,  if  they  be  num- 
erable, and  as  to  the  time,  the  way,  and  the  means  whereby 
thou  shouldst  be  brought  to  himself.  Remember,  there  is 
nothing  that  happens  in  your  daily  life,  but  what  was  first  of 
all  devised  in  eternity,  and  counseled  by  Jesus  Christ  for  your 
good  and  in  your  behalf,  that' all  things  might  work  together 
for  your  lasting  benefit  and  profit.  But,  my  friends,  what  ini- 
fathomable  depths  of  wisdom  must  have  been  involved,  when 
God  consulted  with  himself  with  regard  to  the  great  book  of 


36  HIS    NAME THE    COUNSELOE. 

providence  !  Oh,  how  strange  providence  seems  to  you  and 
to  me  !  Does  it  not  look  like  a  zig-zag  line,  this  way  and  that 
way,  backward  and  forward,  hke  the  journeyings  of  the  chil-. 
dren  of  Israel  in  the  wilderness  ?  Ah !  my  brethren,  but  to  God 
it  is  a  straight  line.  Directly,  God  always  goes  to  his  object ; 
and  yet  to  us  he  often  seems  to  go  round  about.  Ah !  Jacob, 
the  Lord  is  about  to  provide  for  thee  in  Egypt,  when  there  is 
a  famine  in  Canaan,  and  he  is  about  to  make  thy  son  Joseph 
great  and  mighty.  Joseph  must  be  sold  for  a  slave  ;  he  must 
be  accused  wrongfully;  he  must  be  put  into  the  pit,  and  in 
the  round-house  prison  he  must  suffer.  But  God  was  going 
straight  to  his  purpose  all  the  while  :  he  was  sending  Joseph 
before  them  into  Egypt  that  they  might  be  provided  for,  and 
when  the  good  old  patriarch  said,  "  All  these  things  are  against 
me,"  he  did  not  perceive  the  providence  of  God,  for  there 
was  not  a  solitary  thing  in  the  whole  list  that  was  against 
him,  but  every  thing  was  ruled  for  his  weal.  Let  us  learn  to 
leave  providence  in  the  hands  of  the  Counselor ;  let  us  rest 
assured  that  he  is  too  wise  to  err  in  his  predestination,  and  too 
good  to  be  unkind,  and  that  in  the  council  of  eternity,  the  best 
was  ordained  that  could  have  been  ordained — that  if  you  and 
I  had  been  there,  we  could  not  have  ordained  half  so  well,  but 
that  we  should  have  made  ourselves  eternal  fools  by  meddling 
therewith.  Rest  certain,  that  in  the  end  we  shall  see  that  all 
was  well,  and  must  be  well  for  ever.  He  is  "Wonderful,  the 
Counselor,"  for  he  counseled  in  matters  of  providence. 

And  now  with  regard  to  matters  of  grace.  These  were 
also  discussed  in  the  everlasting  council.  When  the  Three 
Divine  Persons  in  the  solemn  seclusion  of  their  own  loneliness 
consulted  together  with  reference  to  the  works  of  grace,  one 
of  the  first  things  they  had  to  consider  was,  how  God  should 
be  just  and  yet  the  justifier  of  the  ungodly — how  the  world 
should  be  reconciled  unto  God.  Hence  you  read  in  the  book 
of  Zechariah,  if  you  turn  to  the  sixth  chapter  and  the  thirteenth 
verse,  this  passage — "  The  council  of  peace  shall  be  between 
them  both."  The  Son  of  God  with  his  Father  and  the  Spirit, 
ordained  the  council  of  peace.  Thus  was  it  arranged.  The 
Son  must  suffer ;  he  must  be  the  substitute,  must  bear  his 


HIS    NAME — ^THE   COUNSELOR.  87 

people's  sins  and  be  punished  in  their  stead ;  the  Father  must 
accept  the  Son's  substitution  and  allow  his  people  to  go  free, 
because  Chiist  had  paid  their  debts.  The  Spirit  of  the  living 
God  rhust  then  cleanse  the  people  whom  the  blood  had  par- 
doned, and  so  they  must  be  accepted  before  the  presence  of 
God,  even  the  Father.  That  was  the  result  of  the  great  coun- 
cil. But,  O  ray  brethren,  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  council, 
what  a  qjiestion  would  have  been  left  unsolved  ?  Neither  you 
nor  I  could  ever  have  thought  how  the  two  should  meet  to- 
gether— how  mercy  and  justice  should  kiss  each  other  over 
the  mountain  of  our  sins.  I  have  always  thought  that  one  of 
the  greatest  proo.Hs  that  the  Gospel  is  of  God,  is  its  revelation 
that  Christ  died  to  save  sinners.  That  is  a  thought  so  original, 
so  new,  so  wonderful;  you  have  not  got  it  in  any  other  reli- 
gion in  the  world  ;  so  that  it  must  haye  come  from  God.  As 
I  remember  to  have  heard  an  unschooled  and  illiterate  man 
say,  when  I  first  told  him  the  simple  story  how  Christ  was 
punished  in  the  stead  of  his  people :  he  burst  out  with  an  air 
of  surprise,  "  Faith  !  that's  the  Gospel,  I  know ;  no  man  could 
have  made  that  up ;  that  must  be  of  God."  That  wonderful 
thought,  that  a  God  himself  should  die,  that  he  himself  should 
bear  our  sins,  that  so  God  the  Father  might  be  able  to  forgive 
and  yet  exact  the  utmost  penalty,  is  super-human,  super- 
angelic  ;  not  even  the  cherubim  and  seraphim  could  have  been 
the  inventors  of  it :  but  that  thought  was  first  struck  out  from 
the  mind  of  God  in  the  councils  of  eternity,  when  the  "  Won- 
derful, the  Counselor,"  was  present  with  his  Father. 

Again  :  another  part  of  the  great  council  was  this — who 
shall  be  saved  ?  Now,  my  friends,  you  that  like  not  old  Cal- 
vinistic  doctrine  will  perhaps  be  horrified,  but  that  I  can  not 
help ;  I  will  never  modify  a  doctrine  I  believe  to  please  any 
man  that  walks  upon  earth ;  but  I  will  prove  from  Scripture 
that  I  have  the  warrant  of  God  in  this  matter,  and  that  it  is 
not  my  own  invention.  I  say  that  one  part  of  the  council  of 
eternity  was  the  predestination  of  those  whom  God  had  de- 
termined to  save,  and  I  will  read  you  the  passage  that  proves 
it.  "  In  whom  also  we  have  obtained  an  inheritance,  being 
predestinated  according  to  the  purpose  of  him  that  worketh 


38  HIS    NAME — ^THE    COUNSELOR. 

all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will."  The  predestina- 
tion of  every  one  of  God's  people  was  arranged  at  the  eternal 
council,  where  God's  will  sat  as  the  sovereign  umpire  and  un- 
disputed president.  There  was  it  said  of  each  redeemeti  one, 
"  At  such  an  hour  I  will  call  him  by  my  grace,  for  I  have  loved 
him  with  an  everlasting  love,  and  by  my  loving  kindness  will 
I  draw  him."  There  was  it  originated  when  the  peace-speak- 
ing blood  shall  be  laid  to  that  elect  one's  conscience,  when  the 
Spirit  of  the  living  God  shall  breathe  joy  and  consolation  into 
his  heart.  There  was  it  settled  how  that  chosen  one  should 
be  "  kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto  salvation ;" 
and  there  was  it  determined  and  settled  by  two  immutable 
things,  wherein  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  lie,  that  every  one 
of  these  should  be  eternally  saved,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a 
risk  of  perishing.  The  Apostle  Paul  was  not  like  some 
preachers,  who  are  afraid  to  say  a  word  about  the  everlasting 
council;  for  he  says  in  his  epistle  to  the  Hebrews — "God 
willing  more  abundantly  to  show  unto  the  heirs  of  promise 
the  immutability  of  his  council,  confirmed  it  by  an  oath." 
Now,  you  hear  some  talk  about  the  immutability  of  the  prorn- 
ise :  that  is  good.  But  the  immutability  of  God's  counsel — 
that  is  to  fithom  to  the  very  uttermost  the  doctrines  of  gmce. 
The  council  of  God  from  all  eternity  is  immutable ;  not  one 
purpose  has  he  ever  altered,  not  one  decree  has  he  ever 
changed ;  he  has  nailed  his  decrees  against  the  pillars  of  eter- 
nity, and  though  the  devils  have  sought  to  rend  them  down 
from  the  posts  of  his  magnificent  palace,  yet,  saith  he,  "  have 
I  set  my  king  upon  my  holy  hill  of  Zion  ;"  the  decree  shall 
stand ;  I  will  do  all  my  pleasure.  Thy  counsels  of  old  are 
faithfulness  and  truth  ;  thou.  Lord,  in  the  beginning  hast  made 
the  heavens  and  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth  ;  thou  hast 
determined  thy  plans  and  purposes,  and  they  stand  fast  for 
ever  and  ever. 

I  think  I  have  sufficiently  declared  how  Christ  was  the 
Counselor,  in  the  transcendent  aJffairs  of  nature,  Providence, 
and  grace,  in  the  everlasting  council-chamber  of  eternity.  But 
now  I  would  have  you  notice  what  a  mercy  it  was  that  th'ere 
was  such  a  counselor  with  God,  and  how  fit  Christ  was  to  be 


HIS    NAME — ^THE   COUNSELOE.  39 

the  Counselor.  Christ  himself  is  wisdom.  He  chargeth  his 
angels  with  folly ;  but  he  is  God  only  wise  himself.  If  a  fool 
undertake  to  be  a  counselor,  his  counsel  is  folly ;  but  when 
Christ  counseled,  his  counsel  was  full  of  wisdom.  But  there 
is  another  qualification  necessary  for  a  counselor.  However 
wise  a  man  be,  he  has  no  right  to  be  a  counselor  with  a  king^ 
unless  he  has  some  dignity  and  standing.  There  may  happen 
to  be  in  my  congregation  some  person  of  great  talent ;  but  if 
my  friend  should  present  himself  at  the  cabinet  council  and 
give  his  advice,  he  would  most  probably  be  unceremoniously 
dismissed,  for  they  would  say,  "  Art  thou  of  the  king's  coun- 
cil ;  if  not,  what  right  hast  thou  to  stand  here  ?"  Now  Christ 
was  glorious ;  he  was  equal  with  his  Father,  therefore  he  had 
a  right  to  counsel  God — to  counsel  with  God.  Had  an  angel 
offered  his  advice  to  God  it  would  have  been  an  insufferable 
impertinence ;  had  the  cherubim  or  seraphim  volunteered  to 
give  so  much  as  one  word  of  counsel  it  would  have  been  blas- 
phemy. He  would  take  no  counsel  from  his  creatures.  Why 
should  wisdom  stoop  from  its  throne,  to  counsel  with  created 
folly?  But  because  Christ  was  far  above  all  principalities  and 
powers  and  every  name  that  is  named,  therefore  he  had  a 
right,  not  only  from  his  wisdom,  but  from  his  rank,  to  be  a 
Counselor  with  God.  - 

But  there  is  one  thing  that  is  always  necessary  in  a  man, 
before  we  can  rejoice  in  his  being  a  counselor.  There  are 
some  counselors  concerning  the  legislation  of  our  country  in 
whom  you  or  I  could  not  rejoice  much,  because  we  feel  that  in 
their  counsels  the  most  of  us  would  be  forgotten.  Our  farm- 
ing friends  would  probably  rejoice  in  them  ;  they  will  consult 
their  interest,  there  is  not  much  doubt  ;  but  whoever  heard 
of  a  counselor  yet  who  counseled  for  the  poor  ?  or  who  has 
these  many  years  heard  so  much  as  an  inkling  of  the  name  of 
a  man  who  really  counseled  for  economy  and  for  the  good  of 
his  nation  ?  We  have  plenty  of  men  who  i^roraise  us  that  they 
will  counsel  for  us — abundance  of  men  who,  if  we  would  but 
return  them  to  Parliament,  would  most  assuredly  pour  forth 
such  wisdom  in  our  behalf  that  without  doubt  we  should  be 
the  most  happy  and  enlighteneul  people  in  the  world  according 


40  HIS  NAME — THE    COUlSrSELOE. 

to  their  promise ;  but  alas !  when  they  get  into  office  they 
have  no  hearty  sympathy  with  us  ;  they  belong  to  a  different 
rank  from  the  most  of  us,  they  do  not  sympathize  with  the 
wants  and  the  desires  of  the  middle  class  and  of  the  poor. 
But,  with  regard  to  Christ,  we  can  put  every  confidence  in 
him,  for  we  know  that  in  that  council  from  eternity  he  sympa- 
thized with  man.  He  says,  "  My  delights  were  with  the  sons 
of  men."  Happy  men  to  have  a  counselor  who  delights  in 
them !  Moreover,  he  then,  though  he  was  not  man,  yet  fore- 
saw that  he  was  to  be  "  bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of  our 
flesh,"  and  therefore  in  the  counsels  of  eternity  he  pleaded  his 
own  cause  when  he  pleaded  our  cause,  for  he  well  knew  that 
he  was  to  be  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  and  was  to 
sufibr  our  sufierings  and  to  be  our  covenant  head  in  union  with 
ourselves.  Sweet  Counselor !  I  love  to  think  thou  wast  in 
the  everlasting  council,  my  friend,  my  brother  born  for  ad- 
versity ! 

n.  Having  thus  discussed  the  first  point,  I  shall  proceed  to 
consider  briefly  the  second,  according  to  the  translation  of 
the  Septuagint.  Christ  is  the  angel  of  the  geeat  couxcil. 
Do  you  and  I  want  to  know  what  was  said  and  done  in  the 
great  council  of  eternity  ?  Yes,  we  do.  I  will  defy  any  man, 
whoever  he  may  be,  not  to  want  to  know  something  about 
destiny.  What  means  the  ignorance  of  the  common  people, 
when  they  appeal  to  the  witch,  the  pretender  ?  when  they 
inquire  of  the  astrologer,  and  read  the  book  of  the  pretended 
soothsayer  ?  Why  it  means  that  man  wants  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  everlasting  council.  And  what  mean  all  the 
perplexing  researches  of  certain  persons  into  the  prophecies  ? 
I  consider  very  often  that  the  inferences  drawn  from  prophecy 
are  very  little  better,  after  all,  than  the  guesses  of  the  Nor- 
wood gipsey,  and  that  some  people,  who  have  been  so  busy  in 
foretelling  the  end  of  the  world,  would  have  been  better  em- 
ployed if  they  had  foretold  the  end  of  their  own  books,  and 
had  not  imposed  on  the  public  by  predictions,  assaying  to  in- 
terpret the  prophecies,  without  the  shadow  of  a  foundation. 
But  from  their  credulity  we  may  learn  that  among  the  higher  • 
class  as  well  as  among  the  mov'e  ignorant,  there  is  a  strong 


HIS    NAME — THE   COUNSELOR.  41 

desire  to  know  the  councils  of  eternity.  Beloved,  there  is 
only  one  glass  through  which  you  and  I  can  look  back  to  the 
dim  darkness  of  the  shronded  past,  and  read  the  counsels  of 
God,  and  that  glass  is  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  Do  I  want 
to  know  what  God  ordained  with  regard  to  the  salvation  of 
man  fi-om  before  the  foundation  of  the  world?  I  look  to 
Christ ;  I  find  that  it  was  ordained  in  Christ  that  he  should  be 
the  first  elect,  and  that  a  people  should  be  chosen  in  him.  Do 
you  ask  the  way  in  which  God  ordained  to  save  ?  I  answer, 
he  ordained  to  save  by  the  cross.  Do  you  ask  how  God 
ordained  to  pardon  ?  The  answer  comes,  he  ordained  to 
pardon  through  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  and  to  justify  through 
his  resurrection  from  the  dead.  Every  thing  that  you  want 
to  know  with  regard  to  what  God  ordained,  every  thing  that 
you  ought  to  know,  you  can  find  out  in  the  person  of  Jesus 
Christ.  And  again,  do  I  long  to  know  the  great  secret  of 
destiny?  I  must  look  to  Christ.  What  mean  these  wars, 
this  confusion,  these  garments  rolled  in  blood  ?  I  see  Christ 
born  of  a  virgin,  and  then  I  read  the  world's  history  back- 
wards, and  I  see  that  all  this  led  to  Christ's  coming.  I  see 
that  all  these  leaned  one  upon  another,  as  I  have  sometimes 
seen  clusters  of  rocks  leaning  on  each  other,  and  Christ  the 
great  leading  rock  bearing  up  the  superincumbent  mass  of 
all  past  history.  And  if  I  want  to  read  the  future  I  look  at 
Christ,  and  I  learn  that  he  who  has  gone  up  to  heaven,  is  to 
come  again  from  heaven  in  like  manner  as  he  went  up  to 
heaven.  So  all  the  future  is  clear  enough  to  me.  I  do  not 
know  whether  the  Pope  of  Rome  is  to  obtain  universal  empire 
or  not ;  I  do  not  mind  whether  the  Russian  empire  is  to  swal- 
low up  all  the  nations  of  the  continent ;  there  is  one  thing  I 
know ;  God  will  overturn,  overturn,  overturn,  till  he  shall 
come  whose  right  it  is  to  reign ;  and  I  know  that  though  the 
worms  devour  my  body,  yet  when  he  shall  stand  in  the  latter 
day  upon  the  earth,  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God,  and*  there  is 
enough  in  that  for  me.  All  the  rest  of  history  is  unimportant 
compared  with  its  end,  its  issues,  its  purpose.  The  end  of  the 
first  Testament  is  the  first  advent  of  Christ ;  the  end  of  this 
second  Testament  of  modern  history  is  the  second  advent  of 


42  HIS   NAME THE   COUNSELOR. 

the  Saviour ;  and  then  shall  the  book  of  time  be  closed.  But 
none  could  open  the  Old  Testament  history  and  make  it  out, 
except  through  Christ.  Abraham  could  understand  it,  for  he 
knew  that  Christ  was  to  come ;  Christ  opened  the  book  for 
him.  And  so  modern  history  is  never  to  be  understood  except 
through  Christ.  None  but  the  Lamb  can  take  the  book  and 
open  every  seal ;  but  he  who  believeth  in  Christ  and  looks  for 
his  glorious  advent,  he  may  open  the  book  and  read  therein, 
and  have  understanding,  for  in  Christ  there  is  a  revelation  of 
the  eternal  councils. 

"N"ow,"  says  one,  "  sir,  I  want  to  know  one  thing,  and  if  I 
knew  that,  I  would  not  care  what  happened.  I  want  to  know 
whether  God  from  all  eternity  ordained  me  to  be  saved." 
Well,  friend,  I  will  tell  you  how  to  find  that  out,  and  you  may 
find  it  out  to  a  certainty.  "  I^ay,"  says  one,  "  but  how  can  I 
know  that  ?  You  can  not  read  the  book  of  fate  ;  that  is  im- 
possible." I  have  heard  of  some  divine,  of  a  very  hyper 
school  hideed,  who  said,  "  Ah  !  blessed  be  the  Lord,  there  are 
some  of  God's  dear  people  here  ;  I  can  tell  them  by  the  very 
look  of  their  faces ;  I  know  that  they  are  among  God's  elect." 
He  was  not  half  so  discreet  as  Rowland  Hill,  who,  when  he 
was  advised  to  preach  to  none  but  the  elect,  said,  "  He  would 
certainly  do  so  if  some  one  would  chalk  them  all  on  the  back 
first."  That  was  never  attempted  by  anybody  ;  so  Rowland 
Hill  went  on  preaching  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  as  I  de- 
sire to  do.  But  you  may  find  out  whether  you  are  among  his 
chosen  ones,  "  How  ?"  says  one.  Why,  Christ  is  the  angel 
of  the  covenant,  and  you  can  find  it  out  by  looking  to  him. 
Many  people  want  to  knovv  their  election  before  they  look  to 
Christ.  Beloved,  you  can  not  know  your  election,  except  as 
you  see  it  in  Christ.  If  you  want  to  know  your  election, 
thus  shall  you  assure  your  hearts  before  God.  Do  you  feel 
yourself  this  morning  to  be  a  lost,  guilty  sinner  ?  go  straight- 
way to  fhe  cross  of  Christ,  and  tell  Christ  that,  and  tell  him 
that  you  have  read  in  the  Bible  "  That  him  that  cometh  unto 
him  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  Tell  him  that  he  has  said, 
"This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom 


HIS   NAME — ^THE  COUNSELOR.  43 

you  are  chief."  Look  to  Christ  and  believe  on  hira,  and  you 
shall  make  proof  of  your  election  directly,  for  so  surely  as 
thou  believest  thou  art  elect.  If  thou  wilt  give  thyself  wholly 
up  to  Christ  and  trust  him,  then  thou  art  one  of  God's  chosen 
ones  ;  but  if  you  stop  and  say,  "  I  want  to  know  first  whether 
I  am  elect,"  that  is  impossible.  If  there  be  something  cov- 
ered up,  and  I  say,  "  Now  before  you  can  see  this  you  must 
lift  the  vail ;"  and  you  say,  "  Nay,  but  I  want  to  see  right 
through  the  vail,"  you  can  not.  Lift  the  vail  first,  and  you 
shall  see.  Go  to  Christ,  guilty,  just  as  you  are.  Leave  all 
curious  inquiry  about  thy  election  alone.  Go  straight  away 
to  Christ,  just  as  you  are,  black,  naked,  penniless  and  poor, 
and  say, 

"  Nothing  in  my  hands  I  bring, 
Siniply  to  thy  cross  I  cling," 

and  you  shall  know  your  election.  The  assurance  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  sl^U  be  given  to  you,  so  that  you  shall  be  able  to  say, 
'*  I  know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  he 
is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  to  him."  Now, 
do  notice  this.  Christ  was  at  the  everlasting  council :  he  can 
tell  you  whether  you  were  chosen  or  not ;  but  you  can  not 
find  that  out  any  how  else.  You  go  and  put  your  trust  in 
hira  and  I  know  what  the  answer  will  be.  His  answer  will  be 
— "  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love,  therefore  in 
loving  kindness  have  I  drawn  thee."  There  will  be  no  doubt 
about  his  having  chosen  you^  when  you  shall  feel  no  doubt 
about  having  chosen  him. 

So  much  for  the  second  point.  Christ  is  a  Counselor.  He 
is  the  angel  of  the  council,  because  he  tells  out  God's  secrets  to 
us.  "  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that  fear  him,  and 
he  will  show  them  his  covenant." 

HI.  The  last  point  was,  Christ  is  a  Counselor  to  us.  And 
here  I  shall  want  to  give  some  practical  hints  to  God's  people. 
Some  how  or  other,  brethren,  it  is  not  good  for  man  to  be 
alone.  A  lonely  man  must  be,  I  think,  a  miserable  man  ;  and 
a  man  without  a  Counselor,  I  think,  must  of  necessity  go 
wrong.  "  Where  there  is  no  counselor,"  says  Solomon,  '*  the 
people  fall."    I  think  most  persons  will  find  it  so.    A  man  says, 


44  HIS    NAME — ^THE    COXHSTSELOB. 

"  Well,  I'll  have  my  own  way,  and  I  will  ask  nobody."  Have 
it,  sir — have  it — and  you  will  find  that  in  having  your  own 
way  you  have  probably  had  the  worst  way  you  could.  We 
all  feel  our  need  at  times  of  a  counselor.  David  was  a  man 
after  God's  own  heart  and  dealt  much  with  his  God ;  but  he 
had  his  Ahithophel,  with  whom  he  took  sweet  counsel,  and 
they  walked  to  the  house  of  God  in  company.  Kings  must 
have  some  advisers.  Woe  unto  the  man  that  hath  got  a  bad 
counselor.  Rehoboam  took  counsel  of  the  young  men,  and 
not  of  the  old  men,  and  they  counseled  him  so  that  he  lost 
ten-twelfths  of  his  empire.  Some  take  counsel  of  stocks  and 
stones.  We  know  many  who  counsel  at  the  hands  of  fooHsh 
charms,  instead  of  going  to  Christ.  They  shall  have  to  learn 
that  there  is  but  one  Christ  who  is  to  be  trusted ;  and  that 
however  necessary  a  counselor  may  be,  yet  none  other  shall 
be  found  to  fulfill  the  necessity,  but  Jesus  Christ  the  Counsel- 
or. Let  me  make  a  remark  or  two  with  regard  to  this  Coun- 
selor, Jesus  Christ.  * 

And,  first,  Christ  is  a  necessary  Counselor.  So  sure  as  we 
do  any  thing  without  asking  counsel  of  God  we  fall  into  trouble. 
Israel  made  a  league  with  Gibeon,  and  it  is  said,  they  took  of 
their  victuals,  and  they  asked  not  counsel  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Lord,  and  they  found  out  that  the  Gibeonites  had  deceived 
them.  If  they  had  asked  counsel  first,  no  cunning  deception 
could  have  imposed  on  them  in  the  matter.  Saul,  the  son  of 
Kish,  died  before  the  Lord  upon  the  mountains  of  Gilboa,  and 
in  the  book  of  Chronicles  it  is  written,  he  died  because  he 
asked  not  counsel  of  God,  but  sought  unto  the  wizards. 
Joshua,  the  great  commander,  when  he  was  appointed  to  sug- 
ceed  Moses,  w^as  not  left  to  go  alone,  but  it  is  written,  "  And 
Eliezer  the  priest  shall  be  his  counselor,  and  he  shall  ask  coun- 
sel of  the  Lord  for  him."  And  all  the  great  men  of  olden 
times,  when  they  were  about  to  do  an  action,  paused,  and  they 
said  to  the  priest,  "  Bring  hither  the  ephod,"  and  he  put  on 
the  Urim  and  the  Thummim,  and  appealed  to  God  and  the 
answer  came,  and  sound  advice  was  vouchsafed.  You  and  I 
will  have  to  learn  how  necessary  it  is  always  to  take  advice  of 
God.    Did  you  ever  seek  God's  advice  on  your  knees  about  a 


HIS     NAME — THE    COUNSELOR.  45 

difficulty  and  then  go  amiss  ?  Brethren,  I  can  testify  for  my 
God  that  when  I  have  submitted  my  will  to  his  directing 
Spirit,  I  have  always  had  reason  to  thank  him  for  his  wise 
counsel.  But  when  I  have  asked  at  his  hands,  having  already 
made  up  my  own  mind,  I  have  had  my  own  way ;  but  like  as 
he  fed  the  Israelites  with  the  quails  of  heaven — while  the  meat 
w^as  yet  in  their  mouth,  the  wrath  of  God  came  upon  them. 
Let  us  take  heed  always  that  we  never  go  before  the  cloud. 
He  that  goes  before  the  cloud  goes  a  fool's  errand,  and  will 
be  glad  to  get  back  again.  An  old  Puritan  used  to  say,  "  He 
that  carves  for  himself  will  cut  his  fingers.  Leave  God  to 
carve  for  you  in  providence,  and  all  shall  be  well.  Seek  God's 
guidance  and  nothing  can  go  amiss."     It  is  necessary  counsel. 

In  the  next  place,  Christ's  counsel  \^  faithful  counsel.  When 
Ahithophel  lell  David,  it  proved  that  he  was  not  faithful,  and 
when  Hushai  went  to  Absalom  and  counseled  him,  he  coun- 
seled him  craftily,  so  that  the  good  counsel  of  Ahithophel  was 
brought  to  nouerht.  Ah !  how  often  do  our  friends  counsel  us 
craftily !  We  have  known  them  to  do  so.  They  have  looked 
first  to  their  own  advantage,  and  then  they  have  said,  "  If  I 
can  get  him  to  do  so-and-so  it  will  be  the  best  for  me."  That 
was  not  the  question  we  asked  them.  It  was  what  would  be 
best  for  ourselves.  But  we  may  trust  Christ,  that  in  his  ad- 
vice to  us  there  never  can  be  any  self  interest.  He  will  be 
quite  certain  to  advise  us  with  the  most  disinterested  motives, 
so  that  the  good  shall  be  to  us,  and  the  profit  to  ouf  selves. 

Again,  Christ's  counsel  is  hearty  counsel.  I  hate  to  go  to  a 
lawyer  above  all  people,  to  talk  with  him  upon  matters  of 
business.  The  worst  kind  of  conversation  is,  I  think,  conver- 
sation with  a  lawyer.  There  is  your  case !  Dear  me,  what 
an  interest  you  feel  in  it !  You  spread  it  out  before  him,  and 
he  says,  "  There  is  a  word  upon  the  second  page  not  quite 
correct."  You  look  at  it,  and  you  say,  "  Ah  I  that  is  totally 
unimportant;  that  does  not  signify."  He  turns  to  another 
clause  and  he  says,  "  Ah !  there  is  a  good  deal  here !"  "  My 
dear  fellow,"  you  say,  *'  I  do  not  care  about  those  petty  clauses, 
whether  it  says  lands,  properties,  or  hereditaments :  what  I 
want  you  to  do  is  to  set  this  difficulty  right  in  point  of  law." 


40  HIS    NAME — ^THE    OOUNSELOK. 

"  Be  patient,"  he  says ;  you  must  go  through  a  great  many 
consultations  before  he  will  come  to  tlie  point,  and  all  the 
while  your  poor  heart  is  boiling  over  because  you  feel  such  an 
interest  in  the  main  point.  But  he  is  as  cool  as  possible ;  you 
think  you  are  asking  counsel  of  a  block  of  marble.  No  doubt 
his  advice  will  come  out  all  right  at  last,  and  it  is  pretty  certain 
it  will  be  good  for  you ;  but  it  is  not  hearty.  He  does  not  en- 
ter into  the  sympathies  of  the  matter  with  you.  What  is  it 
to  him  whether  you  succeed  or  not  ?  whether  the  object  of 
your  heart  shall  be  accomplished  or  not  ?  It  is  but  a  profes- 
sional interest  he  takes.  Now,  Solomon  says,  "As  ointment 
for  perfume,  so  is  hearty  counsel."  When  a  man  throws  his 
own  soul  into  your  case,  and  says,  "  My  dear  friend,  I'll  do 
any  thing  I  can  to  help  you  ;  let  me  look  at  it,"  and  he  takes 
as  deep  an  interest  in  it  as  you  do  yourself.  "  If  I  were  in 
your  position,"  he  says,  "  I  should  do  so-and-so ;  by-the-bye, 
there  is  a  word  wrong  there."  Perhaps  he  tells  you  so,  but 
he  only  tells  you  because  he  is  anxious  to  have  it  all  right ; 
and  you  can  see  that  his  drift  is  always  towards  the  same  end 
that  you  are  seeking,  and  that  he  is  only  anxious  for  your 
good.  Oh !  for  a  Counselor  that  could  tie  your  heart  into 
union  with  his  own !  Now  Christ  is  such  a  Counselor  as  that. 
He  is  a  hearty  Counselor.  His  interests  and  your  interests 
are  bound  up  together,  and  he  is  hearty  with  you. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  counsel  still.  David  says  of 
one,  who  lifterwards  became  his  enemy,  "We  took  sweet 
counsel  together."  Christian,  do  you  know  what  sweet  coun- 
sel is  ?  You  have  gone  to  your  Master  in  the  day  of  trouble, 
and  in  the  secret  of  your  chamber  you  have  poured  out  your 
heart  before  him.  You  have  laid  your  case  before  him  with 
all  its  difficulties,  as  Hezekiah  did  Rabshakeh's  letter,  and 
you  have  felt,  that  though  Christ  was  not  there  in  flesh  and 
blood,  yet  he  was  there  in  spirit,  and  he  counseled  you.  You 
felt  that  his  was  counsel  that  came  from  the  veiy  heart. 
But  he  was  something  better  than  that.  There  was  such  a 
sweetness  coming  with  his  counsel,  such  a  radiance  of  love, 
such  a  fullness  of  fellowship,  that  you  said,  "  Oh  that  I  were 
in  trouble  every  day,  if  I  might  have  such  sweet  counsel  as 


HIS    NA-ME — THE    COUNSELOR.  47 

this !"  Christ  is  the  Counselor  whom  I  wish  to  consult  every 
hour,  and  I  wish  that  I  could  sit  in  his  secret  chamber  all  day 
and  all  night  long,  because  to  counsel  with  him  is  to  have 
sweet  counsel,  hearty  counsel,  and  wise  counsel  all  at  the  same 
time.  Why,  you  may  have  a  friend  that  talks  very  sweetly 
with  you,  and  you  will  say,  "Well,  he  is  a  kind,  good  soul, 
but  I  really  can  not  trust  his  judgment."  You  have  another 
friend,  who  has  a  good  deal  of  judgment,  and  yet  you  say  of 
him,  "  Certainly,  he  is  a  man  of  prudence  above  a  gieat  many, 
but  I  can  not  find  out  his  sympathy ;  I  never  get  at  his  heart ; 
if  he  was  ever  so  rough  and  untutored,  I  w^ould  sooner  have 
his  heart  without  his  prudence,  than  his  prudence  without  his 
heart."  But  we  go  to  Christ,  and  we  get  wisdom ;  w^e  get 
love,  we  get  sympathy,  we  get  every  thing  that  can  possibly 
be  wanted  in  a  Counselor. 

And  now  we  must  close  by  noticing  that  Christ  has  special 
counsels  for  each  of  us  this  morning,  and  what  are  they? 
Tried  child  of  God,  your  daughter  is  sick;  your  gold  has 
melted  in  the  fire ;  you  are  sick  yourself,  and  your  heart  is 
sad.  Christ  counsels  you,  and  he  says,  "Cast  thy  burden 
upon  the  Lord,  he  will  sustain  you ;  he  will  never  sufier  the 
righteous  to  be  moved."  Young  man,  you  that  are  seeking 
to  be  great  in  this  world,  Christ  counsels  you  this  morning. 
"  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself?  seek  them  not."  I 
shall  never  forget  Midsummer  common.  I  was  ambitious  ;  I 
was  seeking  to  go  to  college,  to  leave  my  poor  people  in  the 
"wilderness  that  I  might  become  something  great;  and  as  I 
was  walking  there,  that  text  came  with  power  to  my  heart — 
"  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself?  seek  them  not."  I 
suppose  about  forty  pounds  a  year  was  the  sum  total  of  ray 
income,  a»d  I  was  thinking  how  I  should  make  both  ends 
meet,  and  whether  it  would  not  be  a  great  deal  better  for  me 
to  resign  my  charge  and  seek  something  for  the  bettering  of 
myself,  and  so  forth.  But  this  text  rang  in  my  ears,  "  Seekest 
thou  great  things  for  thyself?  seek  them  not."  "Lord,"  said 
I,  "  I  will  follow  thy  counsel  and  not  my  own  devices ;"  and 
I  have  never  had  cause  to  regret  it.  Always  take  the  Lord 
for  thy  guide,  and  thou  shalt  never  go  amiss.     Backslider  I 


48^  HIS    NAME — THE    COUNSELOR. 

thou  that  hast  a  name  to  live,  and  art  dead,  or  nearly  dead, 
Christ  gives  thee  counsel.  "I  counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me, 
gold  tried  in  the  fire  and  white  raiment,  that  thou  mayest  be 
clothed."  And  sinner !  thou  that  art  far  from  God,  Christ  gives 
thee  counsel.  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  are  weary  and 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  Depend  on  it,  it  is 
loving  counsel.  Take  it.  Go  home  and  cast  youself  upon 
your  knees.  Seek  Christ;  obey  his  counsel,  and  you  shall 
have  to  rejoice  that  you  ever  listened  to  his  voice,  and  heard 
it,  and  lived. 


SERMON  III. 
"AS  THT  DAYS,  SO  SHALL  THY  STRENGTH  BE." 

"As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." — ^Deut.,  xxxiii.  25. 

Beloved,  it  seems  a  sad  thing  that  every  day  must  die  and 
be  followed  by  a  night.  When  we  have  seen  the  hills  clad 
with  verdure  to  their  summit,  and  the  seas  laving  their  base 
with  a  silver  glory  ;  when  we  have  stretched  our  eye  far  away, 
and  have  seen  the  widening  prospect  full  of  loveliness  and 
beauty,  we  have  felt  sad  that  the  sunlight  should  ever  set  upon 
such  a  scene,  and  that  so  much  beauty  should  be  shrouded  in 
the  oblivion  of  darkness.  But  how  much  reason  have  we  to 
bless  God  for  nights  !  for  if  it  were  not  for  nights  how  much 
of  beauty  never  would  be  discovered.  Never  should  I  have 
considered  the  heavens,  the  work  of  thy  fingers,  O  my  God, 
if  thou  hadst  not  first  covered  the  sun  with  a  thick  mantle  of 
darkness :  the  moon  and  the  stars,  which  thou  hast  ordained, 
had  never  been  bright  in  mine  eyes,  if  thou  hadst  not  hidden 
the  light  of  the  sun  and  bidden  him  retire  within  the  curtains 
of  the  west.  Kight  seems  to  be  the  great  friend  of  the  stars  : 
they  must  be  all  unseen  by  eyes  of  men,  were  they  not  set  in 
the  foil  of  darkness.  It  is  even  so  with  winter.  We  might 
feel  sad,  that  all  the  flowers  of  summer  must  dic,.and  all  the 
fruits  of  autumn  must  be  gathered  into'  their  storehouse,  that 
every  tree  must  be  stripped,  and  that  all  the  fields  must  lose 
their  fair  flowers.  But  were  it  not  for  winter  we  should  never 
see  the  glistening  crystals  of  the  snow ;  we  should  never  be- 
hold the  beauteous  festoons  of  the  icicles  that  hang  from  the 
eaves.  Much  of  God's  marvelous  miracles  of  hoar  frost  must 
have  been  hidden  from  us,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  cold  chill 
of  winter,  which,  when  it  robs  us  of  one  beauty,  gives  us 
another — when  it  takes  away  the  emerald  of  verdure,  it  gives 


60        "as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

us  the  diamond  of  ice — when  it  casts  from  us  the  bright  rubies 
of  the  flowers,  it  gives  us  the  fair,  white  ermine  of  snow. 
Well  now,  translate  these  two  ideas,  and  you  will  see  why  it 
is  that  even  our  sin,  our  lost  and  ruined  estate,  has  been  made 
the  means,  in  the  hand  of  God,  of  manifesting  to'  us  the  ex- 
cellences of  his  character.  My  dear  friends,  if  you  and  I  had 
been  without  trouble,  we  never  could  have  had  such  a  promise 
as  this  given  to  us  : — "  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be'." 
It  is  our  weakness  that  has  made  room  for  God  to  give  us  such 
a  promise  as  this.  Our  sins  make  room  lor  a  Saviour ;  our 
frailties  make  room  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  correct  them  ;  all 
our  wanderings  make  room  for  the  good  Shepherd,  that  he 
may  seek  us  and  bring  us  back.  We  do  not  love  nights,  but 
we  do  love  stars ;  we  do  not  love  weakness,  but  we  do  bless 
God  for  the  promise  that  is  to  sustain  us  in  our  weakness ;  we 
do  not  admire  winter,  but  we  do  admire  the  glittering  snow ; 
we  must  shudder  at  our  own  trembhng  weakness,  but  we  still 
do  bless  God  that  we  are  weak  because  it  makes  room  for  the 
display  of  his  own  invincible  strength  in  fulfilling  such  a 
promise  as  this. 

In  addressing  you  this  morning,  I  shall  first  have  to  notice 
the  self-weakness  which  is  implied  in  our  text  /  secondly,  I 
shall  come  to  the  great  promise  of  the  text ;  and  then  I  shall 
try  and  draw  one  or  two  inferences  from  it,  ere  I  conclude. 

I.  First,  the  self-weakness  hinted  at  in  the  text.  To 
keep  to  my  figure,  if  this  promise  be  like  a  star,  you  know 
there  is  no  seeing  the  stars  in  the  day-time  when  we  stand  here 
upon  the  upper  land  ;  we  must  go  down  a  deep  well,  and  then 
we  shall  be  able  to  discover  them.  IN'ow,  beloved,  as  this  is 
day-time  with  our  hearts,  it  will  be  necessary  for  us  to  go 
down  the  deep  well  of  old  recollections  of  our  past  trials  and 
troubles.  We  must  first  get  a  good  fair  idea  of  the  great 
depth  of  our  own  weakness,  b.efore  we  shall  be  able  to  behold 
the  brightness  of  this  rich  and  exceeding  precious  promise. 
A  self  sufiicient  man  can  no  more  understand  this  promise, 
than  a  coal  heaver  can  understand  Greek :  he  has  never  been 
in  a  position  in  which  to  understand  it ;  he  has  never  learned 
his  own  need  of  another's  strength,  and  therefore  he  can  not 


"  AS  THY  DAYS,  SO  SHALL  THY  STRENGTH  BE."     61 

possibly  understand  the  value  of  a  promise  which  consists  in 
giving  to  us  a  strength  beyond  our  own.  Let  us  for  a  few 
minutes  consider  our  own  weakness. 

Ye  children  of  God,  have  ye  not  proved  your  own  weakness 
in  the  day  of  duty  f  The  Lord  has  spoken  to  you,  and  he  has 
said,  "  Son  of  man,  run,  and  do  such  and  such  a  thing  which 
I  bid  thee ;"  and  you  have  gone  to  do  it,  but  as  you  have 
been  upon  your  way,  a  sense  of  great  responsibility  has  bowed 
you  down,  and  you  have  been  ready  to  turn  back  even  at  the 
outset,  and  to  cry,  "  Send  by  whomsoever  thou  wilt  send,  but 
not  by  me."  Reinforced  by  strength,  you  have  gone  to  the 
duty,  but  while  performing  it,  you  have  at  times  felt  your 
hands  hanging  exceeding  heavy,  and  you  have  had  to  look  up 
many  a  time  and  cry,  "  O  Lord,  give  me  more  strength,  for 
without  tliy  strength  this  work  must  be  unaccomplished ;  I 
can  not  perform  it  myself."  And  when  the  work  has  been 
done,  and  you  have  looked  back  upon  it,  you  have  either  been 
filled  with  amazement  that  it  should  have  been  done  at  all  by 
so  poor  and  weak  a  worm  as  yourself,  or  else  you  have  been 
overcome  with  horror  because  you  have  been  afraid  the  work 
was  marred,  Uke  the  vessel  on  the  potter's  wheel,  by  reason 
o^  your  own  want  of  skillfiilness.  I  confess,  in  my  own  posi- 
tion, I  have  a  thousand  causes  to  confess  my  own  weakness 
every  day.  In  preparing  for  the  pulpit  how  often  do  we  dis- 
cover our  weakness  when  a  hundred  texts  exhibit  themselves, 
and  we  know  not  which  to  choose  ;  and  when  we  have  selected 
our  subject,  distracting  thoughts  come  in,  and  when  we  would 
concentrate  our  minds  upon  some  holy  topic,  we  find  they  are 
carried  hither  and  thither,  driven  about  like  the  minds  of  chil- 
dren by  every  wind  of  thought.  And  when  we  bow  out 
knees  to  seek  the  Lord's  help  before  we  preach,  how  often 
does  our  tongue  refuse  to  give  utterance  to  the  earnestness  of 
our  hearts  ?  And  alas  !  how  frequently  too  is  our  heart  cold 
when  we  are  about  to  enter  upon  an  occupation  which  requires 
the  heart  to  be  hot  like  a  furnace,  and  the  lip  to  be  burning 
like  a  live  coal.  Here  in  this  pulpit  I  have  often  learned  ray 
weakness,  when  words  have  fled  from  me,  and  thoughts  havo 
departed  too,  and  when  that  zeal  which  I  thought  would  have 


62 

poured  itself  forth  like  a  cataract,  has  trickled  forth  in  unwil- 
ling drops  like  a  sullen  stream,  the  source  of  which  doth 
almost  fail,  and  which  seemeth  itself  as  if  it  longed  to  be  dried 
up  and  dead.  And  after  preaching,  how  have  I  cast  myself 
upon  my  bed,  and  tossed  to  and  fro,  groaning  because  I 
thought  I  had  failed  to  deliver  my  message,  and  had  not 
preached  my  Master's  Word  as  my  Master  would  have  me 
preach  it.  All  of  you,  in  your  own  callings,  I  dare  say,  have 
had  enough  to  prove  that.  I  do  not  believe  a  Christian  man 
can  examine  himself  without  finding  every  day  that  weakness 
is  proven  even  in  the  doing  of  his  duty.  Your  shop,  however 
small,  will  be  enough  to  prove  to  you  your  weakness ;  your 
business,  however  little,  your  cares,  however  light,  your  fam- 
ily, however  small,  will  furnish  you  with  enough  proofs  of  the 
fact :  "  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing  ;"  "  He  that  abideth 
in  me,  and  I  in  him,  the  same  bringeth  forth  much  fruit :  for 
without  me  ye  can  do  nothing." 

But,  beloved,  we  prove  our  weakness,  perhaps  more  visibly, 
when  w^e  come  into  the  day  of  suffering.  There  it  is  that  we 
are  weak  indeed.  I  have  sat  by  the  side  of  those  who  have 
been  exceedingly  sick,  and  have  marked  their  patience ;  but 
I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  wondered  at  the  patience  of  a  sick 
man  so  much  as  I  do  when  I  am  sick  myself;  then  patience  is 
an  extraordinary  virtue.  Women  suifer,  and  suffer  well ;  but 
I  do  think  there  are  very  few  men  who  could  bear  the  tithe 
of  the  suffering  that  many  women  endure,  without  exhibiting 
a  hundred  times  as  much  impatience.  Most  of  us  who  are 
gifted  with  strong  constitutions,  and  have  but  little  of  sickness, 
have  to  chasten  ourselves,  that  what  little  sickness  we  have  to 
contend  with  is  borne  with  so  little  resignation  and  with  so 
much  impatience  ;  that  we  are  so  ready  to  repine,  so  prepared 
to  bow  our  heads  and  wish  we  were  dead,  because  a  little  pain 
is  rending  our  body.  Here  it  is  that  we  prove  our  weakness 
indeed.  Ah  !  people  of  God,  it  is  one  thing  to  talk  about  the 
furnace  ;  it  is  another  thing  to  be  in  it.  It  is  one  thing  to  look 
at  the  doctor's  knife,  but  quite  another  thing  to  feel  it.  You 
wdll  find  it  one  thing  to  sip  the  cup  of  medicine,  but  quite 
another  thing  to  lie  in  bed  a  dreary  week  or  month,  and  to 


"as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."         63 

drink  on,  and  on,  and  on,  of  that  nauseating  draught.  When 
you  are  on  dry  land,  most  of  you  are  good  sailors ;  out  at  sea 
you  are  vastly  difterent.  There  is  many  a  man  who  makes  a 
wonderfully  brave  soldier  till  he  gets  into  the  battle,  and  then 
he  wishes  himself  miles  away,  and  except  his  spurs  there  is  no 
weapon  he  can  use  with  much  advantage.  That  man  has  never 
been  sick  who  does  not  know  his  weakness,  his  want  of  pa- 
tience and  of  endi^-ance. 

Again,  beloved,  there  is  another  thing  which  will  very  soon 
prove  our  weakness,  if  neither  duty  nor  suffering  will  do  it — 
namely,  progress.  You  sit  down  to-morrow  and  you  read  the 
life  of  some  eminent  servant  of  God  :  perhaps  the  life  of  David 
Brainard,  and  how  he  gave  up  his  life  for  his  Master  in  the 
wilderness ;  or  the  heroic  life  of  Henry  Martyn,  and  how  he 
sacrificed  all  for  Christ :  and  as  you  read  you  say  within  yourself, 
"  I  will  endeavor  to  be  like  this  man ;  I  will  seek  to  have  his 
faith,  his  self  denial,  his  love  to  never-dying  souls."  Try  and 
get  them,  beloved,  and  you  will  soon  find  your  own  weakness. 
I  have  sometimes  thought  I  would  try  to  have  more  faith,  but 
I  have  found  it  very  hard  to  keep  as  much  as  I  had.  I  have 
thought,  "  I  will  love  my  Saviour  more,"  and  it  was  right  that 
I  should  strive  to  do  so ;  but  when  I  sought  to  love  him  more 
I  found  that  perhaps  I  was  going  backward  instead  of  for- 
ward. How  often  do  we  find  out  our  weakness  when  God 
answers  our  prayers  ! 

"  I  asked  the  Lord  that  I  might  erow 
In  faith,  and  love,  and  every  grace  ; 
Might  more  of  his  salvation  know, 
And  seek  more  earnestly  his  face. 

I  hoped  that  in  some  favor'd  hour 

At  once  he'd  answer  my  request, 
And  by  his  love's  constraining  power, 

Subdue  my  sins,  and  give  me  rest. 

Instead  of  this  he  made  me  feel 

The  hidden  evils  of  my  heart, 
And  let  the  angry  power  of  hell 

Assault  my  soul  in  every  part 


54    "as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  steength  be." 

'  Lord,  why  is  this  ?'  I  trembling  cried, 
'  Wilt  thou  pursue  thy  worm  to  death  ?' 
•  '  'Tis  in  this  waj^,'  the  Lord  repUed, 

'  I  answer  prayer  for  grace  and  faith.'  " 

That  is,  the  Lord  helps  us  to  grow  downward  when  we  are 
only  thinking  about  growing  upward.  Let  any  of  you  try  to 
grow  in  grace,  and  seek  to  run  the  heavenly  race,  and  make 
a  little  progress,  and  you  will  soon  find,  in  such  a  slippery 
road  as  that  which  we  have  to  travel,  that  it  is  very  hard  to 
go  one  step  forward,  though  remarkably  easy  to  go  a  great 
many  steps  backward. 

If  neither  of  these  three  things  will  prove  thy  weakness, 
Christian,  I  will  advise  thee  to  try  another.  See  what  thou 
art  in  temptation.  I  have  seen  a  tree  in  the  forest  that  seemed 
to  stand  fast  like  a  rock  ;  I  have  stood  beneath  its  wide-spread- 
ing branches,  and  have  sought  to  shake  its  trunk,  to  see  if  I 
could,  but  it  stood  immovable.  The  sun  shone  upon  it,  and 
the  rain  descended,  and  many  a  winter's  frost  sprinkled  its 
boughs  with  snow,  but  it  still  stood  fast  and  firm.  But  one 
night  there  came  a  howling  wind  which  swept  through  the 
forest,  and  the  tree  that  seemed  to  stand  so  fast  lay  stretched 
along  the  ground,  its  gaunt  arms  which  once  were  lifted  up 
to  heaven  lying  hopelessly  broken,  and  the  trunk  snapped  in 
twain.  And  so  have  I  seen  many  a  professor  strong  and 
mighty,  and  nothing  seemed  to  move  him ;  but  I  have  seen 
the  wind  of  persecution  and  temptation  come  against  him, 
and  I  have  heard  him  creak  with  murmuring,  and  at  last  have 
seen  him  break  in  apostasy,  and  he  has  lain  along  the  ground 
a  mournful  sj)ecimen  of  what  every  man  must  become  who 
maketh  not  the  Lord  his  strength,  and  who  relieth  not  upon 
the  Most  High.  "Ah!"  says  one,  "I  do  not  believe  I  could 
be  tempted  to  sin."  My  friend,  it  depends  upon  what  kind  of 
temptation  it  should  be.  There  are  many  of  us  here  who 
could  not  be  tempted  to  drunkenness,  and  others  who  could  not 
be  tempted  to  lust.  If  the  devil  should  set  before  some  of  you 
cups  of  the  richest  wines  that  ever  came  from  the  vintages  of 
Burgundy  or  of  Xeres,  you  would  not  care  for  them  ;  if  you 
did  but  sip  them  it  would  suffice  you :  it  would  be  in  vain  to 
tempt  you  with  the  drunkard's  song ;  nothing  could  induce 


"as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  stbength  be."        65 

you  to  lose  your  equilibrium  by  intoxicating  liquors  ;  but  per- 
haps you  are  the  very  man  whom  a  temptation  of  lust  might 
overthrow.  While  there  be  other  men  whom  neither  lust  nor 
wine  can  overcome,  who  may  be  led  by  a  prospect  of  profit 
into  that  which  is  dishonest ;  and  others  again,  whom  neither 
profit,  nor  lust,  nor  wine,  would  turn  aside,  may  be  over- 
thrown by  anger,  or  envy,  or  malice.  We  have  all  our  ten- 
der points.  When  Thetis  dipped  Achilles  in  the  Styx,  you 
remember  she  held  him  by  the  heel ;  he  was  made  invulner- 
able wherever  the  water  touched  him,  but  his  lieel  not  being 
covered  with  the  water,  was  vulnerable,  and  there  Parts  shot 
his  arrow,  and  he  died.  It  is  even  so  with  us.  We  may  think 
that  we  are  covered  with  virtue  till  we  are  totally  invulner- 
able, but  we  have  a  heel  somewhere  ;  there  is  a  place  where 
the  arrow  of  the  devil  can  make  way :  hence  the  absolute 
necessity  of  taking  to  ourselves  "  the  whole  armor  of  God," 
so  that  there  may  not  be  a  solitary  joint  in  the  harness  that 
shall  be  unprotected  against  the  arrows  of  the  devil.  Satan 
is  very  crafty  ;  he  knows  the  ins  and  outs  of  manhood.  There 
is  many  an  old  castle  that  has  stood  against  every  attack,  but 
at  last  some  traitor  from  within  has  gone  without,  and  said,  "I 
know  an  old  deserted  passage,  a  subterranean  back  way,  that 
has  not  been  used  for  many  a  day.  In  such  and  such  a  field 
you  will  see  an  opening ;  clear  away  a  heap  of  stones  there, 
and  I  will  lead  you  down  the  passage :  you  will  then  come 
to  an  old  door  of  which  I  have  the  key,  and  I  can  let  you  in; 
and  so  by  a  back  way  I  can  lead  you  into  the  very  heart  of 
the  citadel,  which  you  may  then  easily  capture."  It  is  so  with 
Satan.  Man  knoweth  not  himself  so  well  as  Satan  knows  him. 
There  are  back  ways  and  subterranean  passages  into  man's 
heart  which  the  devil  doth  well  understand ;  and  he  who 
thinketh  that  he  is  safe,  let  him  take  heed  lest  he  fall.  That 
is  not  a  bad  hymn  of  Dr.  Watts,  after  all,  where  he  tells  us 
that  Samson  was  very  strong  while  he  wore  his  hair,  but 

'•  Samson,  when  liis  hair  was  lost, 
Met  tho  Philistines  to  his  cost : 
Shook  his  vain  hmbs  with  vast  surprise. 
Made  feeble  fight,  and  lost  his  eyes." 


56         "as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

The  reason  was,  because  there  was  a  back  way  into  Samson's 
heart.  The  Philistines  could  not  overcome  him :  "  Heaps 
upon  heaps,  with  the  jaw-bone  of  an  ass  have  I  slain  a  thou- 
sand men."  Come  on,  Philistines,  he  will  rend  you  in  pieces 
as  he  did  the  young  lion  ;  bind  him  with  green  withes,  and 
he  will  snap  them  as  tow ;  weave  his  locks  with  a  weaver's 
beam,  and  he  will  carry  away  loom  and  all,  and  go  out  like  a 
giant  refreshed  'with  new  wine.  But,  O  Delilah,  he  hath  a 
back  way  to  his  heart ;  thou  hast  found  it  out,  and  now  thou 
canst  overthrow  him.  Tremble,  for  ye  may  yet  be  overcome! 
Ye  ar^as  weak  as  water  if  God  shall  leave  you  alone. 

Now,  I  think,  if  we  have  well  surveyed  these  different 
points  of  our  moral  standing  on  earth,  every  child  of  God 
will  be  ready  to  confess  that  he  is  weak.  I  imagine  there  may 
be  some  of  you  ready  to  say,  "  Sir,  I  am  nothing."  Then  I 
shall  reply,  "  Ah !  you  are  a  young  Christian."  There  will 
be  others  of  you  who  will  say,  "  Sir,  I  am  less  than  nothing." 
And  I  shall  say,  "  Ah  !  you  are  an  old  Christian ;"  for  the 
older  Christians  get,  the  less  they  become  in  their  own  esteem, 
the  more  they  feel  their  own  weakness,  and  the  more  entirely 
they  rely  upon  the  strength  of  God. 

II.  Having  thus  dwelt  upon  the  first  point,  we  shall  now 
come  to  the  second — The  Great  Pkomise, — "  As  thy  days, 
so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

In  the  first  place,- this  is  a  well  guaranteed  promise.  A 
promise  is  nothing  unless  I  have  good  security  that  it  shall  be 
fulfilled.  It  is  in  vain  for  men  to  promise  largely  unless  their 
fulfillment  shall  be  as  large  as  their  promise,  lor  the  largeness 
of  their  promise  is  just  the  largeness  of  deception.  But  here 
every  word  of  God  is  true.  God  has  issued  no  more  notes 
for  the  bank  of  heaven  than  he  can  cash  in  an  hour  if  he  wills. 
There  is  enough  bullion  in  the  vaults  of  Omnipotence  to  pay 
off  every  bill  that  ever  shall  be  drawn  by  the  faith  of  man  or 
the  promises  of  God.  Now  look  at  this  one^-"  As  thy  days, 
so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

Beloved,  God  has  a  strong  reserve  with  which  to  pay  off 
this  promise ;  for  is  he  not  himself  omnipotent,  able  to  do  all 
things  ?     Believer,  till  thou  canst  drain  dry  the  ocean  of  om- 


"as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."         57 

nipotence,  till  thou  canst  break  into  pieces  the  towering  moun- 
tains of  almighty  strength,  thou  never  needest  to  fear.  Until 
thine  enemy  can  stop  the  course  of  a  whirlwind  with  a  reed, 
till  he  can  twist  the  hurricane  from  its  path  by  a  word  of  his 
puny  lip,  thou  needest  not  think  that  the  strength  of  man 
shall  ever  be  able  to  overcome  the  strength  which  is  in  thee, 
namely,  the  strength  of  God.  Whilst  the  earth's  huge  pillars 
stand,  thou  hast  enough  to  make  thy  faith  firm.  The  same 
God  who  guides  the  stars  in  their  courses,  who  directs  the 
earth  in  its  orbit,  who  feeds  the  burning  furnace  of  the  sun, 
and  keeps  the  stars  perpetually  burning  with  their  fires — the 
same  God  has  promised  to  supply  thy  strength.  While  he  is 
able  to  do  all  these  things,  think  not  that  he  shall  be  unable 
to  fulfill  his  own  promise.  Remember  what  he  did  in  the  days 
of  old,  in  the  former  generations.  Remember  how  he  spake, 
and  it  was  done  ;  how  he  commanded,  and  it  stood  fast.  Do 
you  not  see  him  in  the  black  eternity  ?  When  there  was 
nothing  but  grim  darkness,  there  he  stood — the  mighty  Arti- 
ficer :  upon  the  anvil  there  he  cast  a  hot  mass  of  flame,  and 
hammering  it  with  his  own  ponderous  arm,  each  spark  that 
flew  from  it  made  a  world ;  there  those  sparks  are  glittering 
now,  the  ofispring  of  the  anvil  of  the  eternal  purposes,  and 
the  hammer  of  his  own  majestic  might.  And  shall  he,  that 
created  the  world,  grow  weary  ?  Shall  he  fail  ?  Shall  he 
break  his  promises  for  want  of  strength  ?  He  haugeth  the 
world  upon  nothing ;  he  fixed  the  pillars  of  heaven  in  silver 
sockets  of  light,  and  thereon  he  hung  the  golden  lamjis,  the 
sun  and  the  moon  ;  and  shall  he  that  did  all  this  be  unable  to 
support  his  children  ?  Shall  he  be  unfaithful  to  his  word  for 
want  of  2>ower  in  his  arm  or  strength  in  his  will  ?  Remember 
again,  thy  God,  who  has  promised  to  be  thy  strength,  is  the 
God  who  upholdeth  all  things  by  the  word  of  his  hand.  Who 
feedeth  the  ravens  ?  Who  supplies  the  lions  ?  Doth  not  he 
do  it  ?  And  how  ?  He  openeth  his  hand  and  supplieth  the 
want  of  every  living  thing.  He  has  to  do  notliing  more  tlian 
simply  to  open  his  hand.  Who  is  it  that  restrains  the  tem- 
pest ?  Doth  not  he  say  that  he  rides  upon  the  wings  of  tho 
wind,  that  he  maketh  the  clouds  |iis  chariots,  and  holds  tho 

3* 


68         "as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  steength  be." 

water  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  ?  Shall  he  fail  thee  ?  When 
he  has  put  such  a  promise  as  this  on  record,  shalt  thou  for  a 
moment  indulge  the  thought  that  he  has  out-promised  himself, 
and  gone  beyond  his  power  to  fulfill  ?  Ah  !  no.  Who  was  it 
that  cut  Rahab  in  pieces,  and  wounded  the  dragon  ?  Who 
divided  the  Red  Sea,  and  made  the  waters  thereof  stand  up- 
right as  a  heap  ?  Who  led  the  people  through  the  wilder- 
ness ?  Who  was  it  that  did  cast  Pharaoh  into  the  depths  of 
the  sea,  his  chosen  captains,  also,  in  the  depth  of  the  Red  Sea  ? 
Who  rained  fire  and  brimstone  out  of  heaven  upon  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  ?  Who  chased  out  the  Canaanite  with  the  hornet, 
and  made  a  way  of  escape  for  his  people  Israel  ?  Who  was  it 
that  brought  them  again  from  their  captivity,  and  did  settle 
them  again  in  their  own  land  ?  Who  is  he  that  hath  put  down 
kings,  yea  and  slew  mighty  kings,  that  he  might  make  room 
for  his  people  wherein  they  might  dwell  in  a  quiet  habitation  ? 
Hath  not  the  Lord  done  it :  and  is  his  arm  shortened  that 
he  can  not  save  :  or  is  his  ear  heavy  that  he  can  not  hear  ?  O 
thou  who  art  my  God  and  my  strength,  I  can  beheve  that  this 
promise  shall  be  fulfilled,  for  the  boundless  reservoir  of  thy 
grace  can  never  be  exhausted,  and  the  illimitable  store-house 
of  thy  strength  can  never  be  emptied  or  rifled  by  the  enemy. 
It  is,  then,  a  well  guaranteed  promise. 

But  now  I  want  you  to  notice  it  is  a  limited  promise. 
"  What !"  says  one,  "  limited  !  Why  it  says,  '  As  thy  days,  so 
shall  thy  strength  be.'  "  Ay,  it  is  hmited.  I  know  it  is  un- 
limited in  our  troubles,  but  still  it  is  limited.  First,  it  says 
our  strength  is  to  be  as  our  days  are ;  it  does  not  say  our 
strength  is  to  be  as  our  desires  are.  Oh !  how  often  have  we 
thought,  "  How  I  wish  I  were  as  strong  as  so-and-so" — one 
who  had  a  great  deal  of  faith.  Ah  !  but  then  you  would  have 
rather  more  faith  than  you  wanted ;  and  what  would  be  the 
good  of  that  ?  It  would  be  liSe  the  manna  the  children  of 
Israel  had — if  they  did  not  eat  it  in  the  day  it  bred  worms  and 
stank.  "  Still,"  says  one,  "  if  I  had  fiith  like  so-and-so,  I  think 
I  should  do  wondei's."  Yes,  but  you  would  get  the  glory  of 
them.  That  is  why  God  does  not  let  you  have  the  faith,  be- 
cause he  does  not  want  you  to  do  wonders.    That  is  reserved 


"as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."         59 

for  God,  not  for  you — "He  only  doeth  wondrous  things." 
Once  more,  it  does  not  say,  our  strength  shall  be  as  oiiv  fears. 
God  often  leaves  us  to  shift  alone  with  our  fears — never  with 
our  troubles.  Many  of  God's  people  have  a  manufactory  at 
the  back  of  their  houses  in  which  they  manufacture  troubles ; 
and  home-made  troubles,  like  other  home-made  things,  last  a 
very  long  while,  and  generally  tit  very  comfortably.  Troubles 
of  God's  sending  are  always  suitable — the  right  sort  for  our 
backs ;  but  those  that  we  make  are  of  the  wrong  sort,  and  they 
always  last  us  longer  than  God's.  I  have  known  an  old  lady 
sit  and  fret  because  she  believed  she  should  die  in  a  work-house, 
and  she  wanted  God  to  give  her  grace  accordingly ;  but  what 
would  have  been  the  good  of  that,  because  the  Lord  meant 
that  she  should  die  in  her  own  quiet  bedroom  ?  I  have  heard 
of  and  known  men  who,  being  sick,  believed  they  were  dying, 
and  wanted  grace  to  die  complacently ;  but  God  would  not 
give  it  because  he  intended  them  to  live,  and  why  should  he 
give  them  dying  grace  till  they  came  to  die  ?  And  we  have 
known  others  who  said  they  wanted  grace  to  endure  many 
troubles  which  they  expected  to  come  upon  them.  They  were 
going  to  fail  in  a  foitnight  or  so,  but  they  did  not  fail,  and  it 
was  no  wonder  they  had  not  grace  given  to  carry  them  through 
it,  because  they  did  not  require  it.  The  promise  is,  "  As  thy 
days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  "  When  your  vessel  gets 
empty  then  will  I  fill  it ;  I  will  not  give  you  any  extra,  over 
and  above.  When  you  are  weak  then  I  will  make  you  strong ; 
but  I  will  not  give  you  any  extra  strength  to  lay  by :  strength 
enough  to  bear  your  sufferings,  and  to  do  your  duty ;  but  no 
strength  to  play  at  matches  with  your  brethren  and  sisters  in 
order  to  get  the  glory  to  yourselves."  Oh!  if  we  had  strength 
according  to  our  wishes  we  should  soon  all  of  us  be  like  Jesh- 
urun — wax  fat,  and  begin  to  kick  against  the  Most  High. 
Then  again,  there  is  another  limit.  It  says,  "  As  thy  da^s,  so 
shall  thy  strength  be."  It  does  not  say,  "  as  thy  weeks,^^  or 
''^ mo7iths^^'>  but  "as  thy  days:''  You  are  not  going  to  have 
Monday's  grace  given  you  on  a  Sunday,  nor  Tuesday's  grace 
on  a  Monday.  You  shall  have  Monday's  grace  given  you  on 
Monday  morning  as  soon  as  you  rise  and  want  it ;  you  shall 


60  "as  thy  days,  so. shall  thy  steength  be." 

not  have  it  given  you  on  Saturday  night ;  you  shall  have  it 
"  day  by  day" — no  more  than  you  want,  no  less  than  you 
want.  I- do  not  believe  God's  people  are  to  be  trusted  with  a 
week's  grace  all  at  once.  They  are  like  many  of  our  work- 
men :  they  get  their  wages  on  Saturday  night,  and  then  they 
go  and  have  Saint  Monday  and  Saint  Tuesday,  and  never  do 
a  stroke  of  work  till  Wednesday,  when  they  go  to  the  pawn- 
brokers with  their  tools  to  help  them  over  till  the  next  Satur- 
day night.  ISTow,  I  think  God's  children  would  do  the  same. 
If  they  had  grace  given  them  on  Saturday  to  last  them  all 
through  the  week,  I  question  whether  the  devil  would  not  get 
a  good  deal  of  it — whether  they  would  not  be  pawning  some 
of  their  old  evidences  before  the  week  was  out,  in  order  to 
live  upon  them :  spending  all  their  grace  on  Monday  and 
Tuesday,  spending  very  much  of  their  strength  in  indulging 
in  pride  and  boasting,  instead  of  walking  humbly  with  their 
God.     ISTo  ;  "  as  thy  days^  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

Il^ow,  having  said  that  the  promise  is  limited,  perhaps  I  am 
bound  to  add— what  an  extensive  promise  this  is  !  "  As  thy 
days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  Some  days  are  veiy  little 
things ;  in  our  pocket  book  we  have  very  little  to  put  down, 
for  there  was  nothing  done  of  any  importance.  But  some 
days  are  very  big  days.  Ah  !  I  have  known  a  big  day — a  day 
of  great  duties,  when  great  things  had  to  be  done  for  God — 
too  great,  it  seemed,  for  one  man  to  do  ;  and  when  great  duty 
was  but  half  done  there  came  great  trouble,  such  as  my  poor 
heart  had  never  felt  before. 

Oh  !  what  a  great  day  it  was  !  there  was  a  night  of  lamen  - 
tation  in  this  place,  and  the  cry  of  weeping,  and  of  mourning, 
and  of  death.  Ah !  but  blessed  be  God's  name,  though  the 
day  was  big  with  tempest,  and  though  it  swelled  with  horror, 
yet  as  that  day  was,  so  was  God's  strength.  Look  at  poor 
Job.  "What  a  great  day  he  had  once !  "  Master,"  says  one, 
"  the  oxen  were  plowing,  and  the  asses  feeding  beside  them, 
and  the  Sabeans  fell  upon  them  and  took  them  away."  In 
comes  another,  and  he  says,  "  The  fire  of  God  hath  fallen  on 
the  sheep."  "  Oh,"  says  another,  "the  Chaldeans  have  fallen 
upon  the  camels  and  taken  them  away,  and  I,  only  I,  am  left 


"as  thy  DATS,  SO  SHALL  THY  STRENGTH  BE."     61 

to  tell  thee."  Still,  you  see,  grace  kept  growing  with  the  day. 
Still  strength  grew  as  the  trouble  grew.  At  last  conies  the 
back  stroke :  "  A  gi-eat  wind  came  from  the  wilderness,  and 
smote  the  house  where  thy  sons  and  daughters  were  feasting, 
and  they  are  dead,  and  I,  only  I,  am  left  to  tell  thee."  Grace 
still  kept  growing,  and  at  last  the  grace  did  overflow  the 
trouble,  and  the  poor  old  patriarch  cried,  "  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord."  Ah  !  Job,  that  was  a  big  day  indeed,  and  it  was  big 
grace  that  went  with  that  big  day.  Satan  sometimes  blows 
up  our  days  with  his  black  breath  till  they  grow  to  such  a 
cursed  height  that  we  know  not  how  great  the  days  must  be. 
Our  head  whirls  at  the  thought  of  passing  through  such  a  sea 
of  trouble  in  so  short  a  space  of  time.  But  oh !  how  sweet  it 
is  to  think  that  the  bed  of  grace  is  never  shorter  than  a  man 
can  stretch  himself  upon  it ;  nor  is  the  covering  of  Almighty 
love  ever  shorter  than  that  it  may  cover  us.  We  never  need 
be  afraid.  If  our  troubles  should  become  as  high  as  moun- 
tains, God's  grace  would  become  like  Noah's  flood :  it  would 
go  twenty  cubits  higher  till  the  mountains  were  covered.  If 
God  should  send  to  you  and  to  me  a  day  such  as  there  was 
none  like  it,  neither  should  be  any  more,  he  would  send  us 
strength  such  as  there  was  none  like  it,  neither  should  there 
be  any  more. 

Do  you  see  Martin  Luther  riding  into  Worms  ?  There  is  a 
solitary  monk  going  before  a  great  council :  he  knows  they  will 
bura  him ;  did  not  they  burn  John  Huss,  and  Jerome  of 
Prague  ?  Both  those  men  had  a  safe  conduct,  and  it  was  vio- 
lated, and  tliey  were  put  to  death  by  Papists,  who  said  that 
no  faith  was  to  be  kept  with  heretics.  Luther  placed  very 
little  reliance  on  his  safe  conduct ;  and  you  would  have  expected 
as  he  rode  into  Worms,  that  he  would  have  a  dejected  coun- 
tenance. Not  so.  No  sooner  does  he  catch  sight  of  Worms, 
than  some  one  advises  him  not  to  go  into  the  city.  Said  he, 
"  If  there  were  as  many  devils  in  Worms,  as  there  are  tilfes  on 
the  roofs  of  the  houses,  I  would  enter."  And  he  does  ride  in. 
He  goes  to  the  inn,  and  cats  his  bread,  and  drinks  his  beer,  as 
complacently  as  if  he  were  at  his  own  fireside ;  and  then  ho 


62         "as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

goes  quietly  to  bed.  When  summoned  before  the  council,  and 
asked  to  retract  his  opinion,  he  does  not  want  time  to  consider, 
or  debate  about  it;  but  he  says,  "These  things  that  I  have 
written,  are  the  truth  of  God,  and  by  them  will  I  stand  till  I 
die ;  so  help  me  God !"  The  whole  assembly  trembles,  but 
there  is  not  a  flush  upon  the  cheek  of  the  brave  monk,  nor  do 
his  knees  knock  together.  He  is  in  the  midst  of  armed  men, 
and  those  who  seek  his  blood.  There  sit  fierce  cardinals,  and 
blood-thirsty  bishops,  and  the  Pope's  legate  ;  like  spiders,  long- 
ing to  suck  his  blood.  He  cares  for  none  of  them  ;  he  walks 
away,  and  is  confident  that  "  God  is  his  refuge  and  strength,  a 
very  present  help  in  trouble."  "  Ah  !  but,"  you  say,  "  I  could 
not  do  that."  Yes  you  could,  if  God  called  you  to  it.  Any 
child  of  God  can  do  what  any  other  child  of  God  has  done, 
if  God  gives  him  the  strength.  You  could  not  do  what  you 
are  doing  even  now,  without  God's  strength ;  and  you  could 
do  ten  thousand  times  more,  if  he  should  be  pleased  to  fill  you 
with  his  might.     What  an  expansive  promise  this  is  ! 

Once  more,  what  a  varyhig  promise  it  is  !  I  do  not  mean 
that  the  promise  varies,  but,  adapts  itself  to  all  our  changes, 
"^s  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  Here  is  a  fine  sun- 
shiny morning  ;  all  the  world  is  laughing  ;  every  thing  looks 
glad ;  the  birds  are  singing,  the  trees  seem  to  be  all  alive  with 
music.  "  My  strength  shall  be  as  my  day  is,"  says  the  pilgrim. 
Ah  !  pilgrim,  there  is  a  little  black  cloud  gathering.  Soon  it 
increases ;  the  flash  of  lightning  wounds  the  heaven,  and  it  be- 
gins to  bleed  in  showers.  Pilgrim,  "  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy 
strength  be."  The  birds  have  done  singing,  and  the  world 
has  done  laughing ;  but,  "  as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 
Now  the  dark  night  comes  on,  and  another  day  apj)roaches — 
»a  day  of  tempest,  and  whirlwind,  and  storm.  Dost  thou 
tremble,  pilgrim  ? — "  As  thy  days,  so  ^hall  thy  strength  be." 
"  But  there  are  robbers  in  the  wood."  "  As  thy  days,  so  shall 
thy  strength  be."  "But  there  are  lions  which  shall  devour 
me.'*  "As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  "But  there 
are  rivers  ;  how  shall  I  swim  them  ?"  Here  is  a  boat  to  cai-ry 
thee  over :  "  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  "  But 
there  are  fires :  how  shall  I  pass  through  them  ?"  Here  is  the 
garment  that  will  protect  thee :  "  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy 


"as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."         63 

strength  be.'*  "  But  there  are  arrows  that  fly  by  day."  Here 
is  thy  shield :  "  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  streugth  be."  "  But 
there  is  the  pestilence  that  walketh  in  darkness."  Here  is  thy 
antidote:  "As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  Where- 
ever  you  may  be,  and  whatever  trouble  awaits  you,  "  As  thy 
days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  Children  of  God,  can  not 
you  say  that  this  has  been  true  hitherto?  Zcan.  It  might 
seem  egotistical  if  I  were  to  talk  of  the  evidence  I  have  re- 
ceived of  this  during  the  past  week,  but  nevertheless  I  can  not 
help  recording  my  praise  to  God.  I  left  this  pulpit  last  Sab- 
bath as  sick  as  any  man  ever  left  the  pulpit,  and  I  left  this 
country  too,  as  ill  as  I  could  be  ;  but  no  sooner  had  I  set  my 
foot  upon  the  other  shore,  where  I  was  to  preach  the  gospel, 
than  my  wonted  strength  entirely  retunied  to  me.  I  had  no 
sooner  buckled  on  the  harness  to  go  forth  and  fight  my  Mas- 
ter's battle,  than  every  ache  and  pain  was  gone,  and  all  my 
sickness-fled  ;  and  as  my  day  was,  so  certainly  was  my  strength. 
I  believe,  if  I  were  lying  upon  a  dying  couch,  if  God  called 
me  to  preach  in  America,  and  I  had  but  faith  to  be  carried 
down  to  the  boat,  I  should  have  strength  given  me,  though  I 
seemed  to  be  dying,  to  minister  as  the  Lord  had  appointed  me. 
And  so  would  each  of  you,  wherever  you  might  be,  find  that 
as  your  day  was,  so  your  strength  should  be. 

And  in  conclusion,  what  a  loiig  promise  this  is  !  You  may 
live  till  you  are  never  so  old,  but  this  promise  will  outlive  you. 
When  thou  comest  into  the  depths  of  the  river  Jordan,  "  as 
thy  days,  so  shall  tH^-  strength  be  ;"  thou  shalt  have  confidence 
to  face  the  last  grim  tyrant,  and  grace  to  smile  even  in  the 
jaws  of  the  grave.  And  when  thou  shalt  rise  again  in  the 
terrible  morning  of  the  resurrection,  "  as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy 
strength  be ;"  though  the  earth  be  reeling  with  dismay,  thou 
shalt  know  no  fear ;  though  the  heavens  are  tottering  with 
confusion,  thou  shalt  know  no  trouble.  "  As  thy  days,  so  shall 
thy  strength  be."  And  when  thou  shalt  see  God  face  to  face, 
though  thy  weakness  were  enough  to  make  thee  die,  thou  shalt 
Lave  strength  to  bear  the  beatific  vision  ;  thou  shalt  see  him 
face  to  face,  and  thou  ahalt  five;  thou  shalt  lie  in  the  bosom 
of  thy  God ;  immortalized  and  made  full  of  strength,  thou 
shalt  be  able  to  bear  even  the  brightness  of  the  Most  High. 


64         "as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

III.  What  iNTEEENCE  shall  I  draw  except  this  ?  Children 
of  the  living  God,  be  rid  of  your  doubts,  be  rid  of  your 
trouble  and  your  fear.  Young  Christians,  do  not  be  afraid  to 
set  forward  on  the  heavenly  race.  You  bashful  Christians,  that, 
like  Nicodemus,  are  ashamed  to  come  out  and  make  an  open 
profession,  don't  be  afraid ;  "  as  your  -day  is,  so  shall  your 
strength  be."  Why  need  you  fear  ?  You  are  afraid  of  dis- 
gracing your  profession,  you  shall  not ;  your  day  shall  never 
be  more  troublesome,  or  more  full  of  temptation,  than  your 
strength  shall  be  full  of  deliverance. 

And  as  for  you  that  have  not  God  to  be  yours,  I  must  draw 
one  inference  for  you.  Your  strength  is  decaying.  You  are 
growing  old,  and  your  old  age  will  not  be  like  your  youth. 
You  have  strength — strength  which  you  prostitute  to  the 
cause  of  Satan,  which  you  misuse  in  the  service  of  the  devil. 
When  you  grow  old,  as  you  will  do,  unless  your  wickedness  shall 
bring  you  to  an  early  grave ;  they  that  look  out  of  the  windows 
must  be  darkened,  and  the  grasshopper  must  be  a  burden  to 
you ;  and  your  strength  shall  not  be  as  your  day.  And  when 
you  come  to  die,  as  die  you  must,  then  you  will  have  no  strength 
to  die  with ;  you  must  die  alone ;  you  must  hear  yon  iron 
gates  creak  on  their  hinges,  and  no  guardian  angel  to  comfort 
you,  as  you  go  through  the  dreary  A^ault.  And  you  must  stand 
at  God's  great  bar  at  the  day  of  resurrection,  and  no  one  to 
strengthen  you  there.  How  will  your  cheek  blanch  with  ter- 
ror !  How  will  your  soul  be  affrighted  with  horror,  when  you 
shall  hear  it  said,  "  Depart,  ye  cursed,  into*everlasting  fire  pre- 
pared for  the  devil  and  his  angels."  You  have  no  such  prom- 
ise as  this  to  cheer  you  onward,  but  you  have  this  to  drive 
you  to  despair :  your  days  shall  become  heavier,  but  your 
strength  shall  become  Ughter  ;  your  sorrows  shall  be  multiplied, 
and  your  joys  shall  be  diminished  ;  your  days  shall  shorten, 
and  your  nights  shall  lengthen ;  your  summers  shall  become 
dimmer,  and  your  winters  shall  become  blacker  ;  all  your  hopes 
shall  die,  and  your  fears  shall  live.  Ye  shall  reap  the  harvest 
of  your  sins  in  the  dreadful  vintage  of  eternal  wrath.  May 
God  give  us  all  grace,  so  that  when  days  and  years  are  past, 
we  all  may  meet  in  heaven. 


SERMON  lY. 

THE  VOICE  OF  THE  BLOOD  OF  CHRIST. 

"The  blood  of  sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel." 
— Hebeews,  xii.  24. 

Of  all  substances  blood  is  the  most  mysterious,  aod  in  some 
senses  the  most  sacred.  Scripture  teacheth  us — and  after  all 
there  is  very  much  philosophy  in  Sci'ipture — that  "  the  blood 
is  the  life" — that  the  life  lieth  in  the  blood.  Blood,  there- 
fore, is  the  mysterious  link  between  matter  and  spirit.  How 
it  is  that  the  soul  should  in  any  degree  have  an  alliance  with 
matter  through  blood,  we  can  not  understand  ;  but  certain  it 
is  that  this  is  the  mysterious  link  which  unites  these  apparently 
dissimilar  things  together,  so  that  the  soul  can  inhabit  the 
body,  and  the  life  can  rest  in  the  blood.  God  has  attached 
awful  sacredness  to  the  shedding  of  blood.  Under  the  Jewish 
dispensation,  even  the  blood  of  animals  was  considered  as 
sacred.  Blood  might  never  be  eaten  by  the  Jews ;  it  was  too 
sacred  a  thing  to  become  the  food  of  man.  The  Jew  was 
scarcely  allowed  to  kill  his  own  food  :  certainty  he  must  not 
kill  it  except  he  poured  out  the  blood  as  a  sacred  offering  to 
Almighty  God.  Blood  was  accepted  by  God  as  the  symbol 
of  the  atonement.  "  Without  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no 
remission"  of  sin,  because,  I  take  it,  blood  hath  such  an 
affinity  with  Hfe,  that  inasmuch  as  God  would  accept  nought 
but  blood,  he  signified  that  there  must  be  a  life  offered  to  him, 
and  that  his  great  and  glorious  Son  must  surrender  his  life  as 
a  sacrifice  for  his  sheep. 

Now,  we  have  in  our  text  "blood"  mentioned — twofold 
blood.  We  have  the  blood  of  murdered  Abel,  and  the  blood 
of  murdered  Jesus.  We  have  also  two  things  in  the  text : — a 
comparison  between  tJie  blood  of  sprinkling^  and  tlie  blood  of 


66  THE  VOICE   OF   THE   BLOOD    OF    CHRIST. 

Ahel  y  and  then  a  certain  condition  mentioned.  Rather,  if 
we  read  the  whole  verse  in  order  to  get  its  meaning,  we  find 
that  the  righteous  are  spoken  of  as  coming  to  the  blood  of 
sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than  the  blood  of 
Abel ;  so  that  the  condition  which  will  constitute  the  second 
part  of  our  discourse,  is  coming  to  that  blood  of  sprinkliiig 
for  our  salvation  and  glory. 

I.  Without  farther  preface  I  shall  at  once  introduce  to  you 

the    CONTRAST  AND  COMPARISON  I^IPLIED  IN  THE  TEXT.        "  The 

blood  of  sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of 
Abel."  I  confess  I  was  very  much-  astonished,  when  look- 
ing at  Dr.  Gill  and  Albert  Barnes,  and  several  of  the  more 
eminent  commentators,  while  studying  this  passage,  to  find 
that  they  attach  a  meaning  to  this  verse  which  had  never  oc- 
curred to  me  before.  They  say  that  the  meaning  of  the  verse 
is  not  that  the  blood  of  Christ  is  superior  to  the  blood  of  mur- 
dered Abel,  although  that  is  certainly  a  truth,  but  that  the 
sacrifice  of  the  blood  of  Christ  is  better,  and  speaketh  better 
things  than  the  sacrifice  which  Abel  ofiered.  Now,  although 
I  do  not  think  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  text,  and  I  have  my 
reasons  for  believing  that  the  blood  here  contrasted  with  that 
of  our  Saviour,  is  the  blood  of  the  murdered  man  Abel,  yet  on 
lookirfg  to  the  original  there  is  so  much  to  be  said  on  both 
sides  of  the  question,  that  I  think  it  fair  in  explaining  the  pas- 
sage to  give  you  both  the  meanings.  They  are  not  conflict- 
ing interpretations ;  there  is  indeed  a  shade  of  difiference 
between  them,  but  still  they  amount  to  the  same  idea. 

First,  then,  we  may  understand  here  a  comparison  between 
the  offerings  Abel  presented,  and  the  offerings  Jesus  Christ 
presented,  when  he  gave  his  blood  to  be  a  ransom  for  the 
flock. 

Let  me  describe  Abel's  offering.  I  have  no  doubt  Adam 
had  from  the  very  first  of  his  expulsion  from  the  garden  of 
Eden  offered  a  sacrifice  to  God ;  and  we  have  some  dim  hint 
that  this  sacrifice  was  of  a  beast,  for  we  find  that  the  Lord 
God  made  Adam  and  Eve  skins  of  beasts  to  be  their  clothing, 
and  it  is  probable  that  those  skins  were  procured  by  the 
slaughter  of  victims  offered  in  sacrifice.     However,  that  is  but 


THE  VOICE   OF  THE  BLOOD   OF   CHEIST.  67 

a  dim  hint :  the  first  absolute  record  that  we  have  of  an  obla- 
tory sacrifice  is  the  record  of  the  sacrifice  oftered  by  Abel. 
Now,  it  appears  that  very  early  there  was  a  distinction  among 
men.  Cain  wasthe  representative  of  the  seed  of  the  serpent,  and 
Abel  was  the  representative  of  the  seed  of  the  woman.  Abel  was 
God's  elect,  and  Cain  was  one  of  those  who  rejected  the  Most 
High.  However,  both  Cain  and  Abel  united  together  in  the  out- 
ward service  of  God.  They  both  of  them  brought  on  a  cer- 
tain high  day  a  sacrifice.  Cain  took  a  difierent  view  of  the 
matter  of  sacrifice  from  that  which  presented  itself  to  the 
mind  of  Abel.  Cain  was  proud  and  haughty :  he  said,  "  I  am 
ready  to  confess  that  the  mercies  which  we  receive  from  the 
soil  are  the  gift  of  God,  but  I  am  not  ready  to  acknowledge 
that  I  am  a  guilty  sinner,  deserving  God's  wrath ;  therefore," 
said  he,  "  I  will  bring  nothing  but  the  fruit  of  the  ground." 
"  Ah,  but,"  said  Abel,  "  I  feel  that  while  I  ought  to  be  grate- 
ful for  temporal  mercies,  at  the  same  time  I  have  sins  to  con- 
fess, I  have  iniquities  to  bo  pardoned,  and  I  know  that  with- 
out shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission  of  sin ;  therefore," 
said  he,  "  O  Cain,  I  will  not  be  content  to  bring  an  offering  of 
the  ground,  of  the  ears  of  corn,  or  of  first  ripe  fruits,  but  I 
will  bring  of  the  firstlings  of  my  flock,  and  I  will  shed  blood 
upon  the  altar,  because  my  faith  is,  that  there  is  to  come  a 
great  Victim  who  is  actually  to  make  atonement  for  the  sins  of 
men,  and  by  the  slaughter  of  this  lamb,  I  express  my  solemn 
faith  in  him."  Not  so  Cain  ;  he  cared  nothing  for  Christ ;  he 
was  not  wilhng  to  confess  his  sin  ;  he  had  no  objection  to  pre- 
sent a  thank-offering,  but  a  sin-oflfering  he  would  not  bring. 
He  did  not  mhid  bringing  to  God  that  which  he  thought 
might  be  acceptable  as  a  return  for  favors  received,  but  he 
would  not  bring  to  God  an  acknowledgment  of  his  guilt,  or  a 
confession  of  his  inability  to  make  atonement  for  it,  except  by 
the  blood  of  a  substitute.  Cain,  moreover,  when  he  came  to 
the  altar,  came  entirely  without  faith.  He  piled  the  unhewn 
stones,  as  Abel  did,  he  laid  his  sheaves  of  corn  upon  the  altar, 
and  there  he  waited,  but  it  vas  to  him  a  matter  of  compara- 
tive indiflSerence  whether  God  accepted  him  or  not.  He  be- 
lieved there  was  a  God,  doubtless,  but  he  had  no  faith  in  the 


68  THE  VOICE   OF   THE  BLOOD    OF    CHRIST. 

promises  of  that  God.  God  had  said  that  the  seed  of  the 
woman  should  bruise  the  serpent's  head — that  was  the  gospel 
as  revealed  to  our  first  parents ;  but  Cain  had  no  belief  in 
that  gospel — whether  it  were  true  or  not,  he  cared  not — it 
was  sufficient  for  him  that  he  acquired  enough  for  his  own 
sustenance  from  the  soil ;  he  had  no  faith.  But  holy  Abel 
stood  by  the  side  of  the  altar,  and  while  Cain  the  infidel  per- 
haps laughed  and  jeered  at  his  sacrifice,  he  boldly  presented 
there  the  bleeding  lamb,  as  a  testimony  to  all  men,  both  of 
that  time  and  all  future  times,  that  he  believed  in  the  seed  of 
the  woman — that  he  looked  for  him  to  come  who  should 
destroy  the  serpent,  and  restore  the  ruins  of  the  fall.  Do  you 
see  holy  Abel,  standing  there,  ministering  as  a  priest  at  God's 
altar  ?  Do  you  see  the  flush  of  joy  which  comes  over  his 
face,  when  he  sees  the  heavens  opened,  and  the  living  fire  of 
God  descend  upon  the  victim?  Do  you  note  with  what  a 
grateful  expression  of  confident  faith  he  lifts  to  heaven  his  eye 
which  had  been  before  filled  with  tears,  and  cries,  "  I  thank 
thee  O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  thou  hast  ac- 
cepted my  sacrifice,  inasmuch  as  I  presented  it  through  faith 
in  the  blood  of  thy  Son,  my  Saviour,  who  is  to  come." 

Abel's  sacrifice,  being  the  first  on  record,  and  being  offered 
in  the  teeth  of  opposition,  has  very  much  in  it  which  puts  it 
ahead  of  many  other  of  the  sacrifices  of  the  Jews.  Abel  is 
to  be  greatly  honored  for  his  confidence  and  faith  in  the  com- 
ing Messiah.  But  compare  for  a  moment  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ  with  the  sacrifice  of  Abel,  and  the  sacrifice  of  Abel 
shrinks  into  insignificance.  What  did  Abel  bring  ?  He 
brought  a  sacrifice  which  showed  the  necessity  of  blood-shed- 
ding, but  Christ  brought  the  blood-shedding  itself.  Abel 
taught  the  world  by  his  sacrifice  that  he  looked  for  a  victim, 
but  Christ  brought  the  actual  victim.  Abel  brought  but  the 
type  and  the  figure,  the  lamb  which  was  but  a  picture  of  the 
Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world ;  but 
Christ  was  that  Lamb.  He  was  the  substance  of  the  shadow, 
the  reahty  of  the  type.  Abel's  sacrifice  had.  no  merit  in  it 
apart  from  the  faith  in  the  Messiah  with  which  he  presented 
it  J  but  Christ's  sacrifice  had  merit  of  itself;  it  was  in  itself 


THE   VOICE   OF   THE   BLOOD    OP   CHRIST.  69 

meritorious.  What  was  the  blood  of  Abel's  lamb  ?  It  was 
nothing  but  the  blood  of  a  common  lamb  that  might  have 
been  shed  anywhere  ;  except  that  he  had  faith  in  Christ  the 
blood  of  the  lamb  was  but  as  water,  a  contemptible  thing ; 
but  the  blood  of  Christ  was  a  sacrifice  indeed,  richer  far  than 
all  the  blood  of  beasts  that  ever  were  offered  upon  the  altar 
of  Abel,  or  the  altar  of  all  the  Jewish  high  priests.  We  may- 
say  of  all  the  sacrifices  that  were  ever  offered,  however  costly 
they  might  be,  and  however  acceptable  to  God,  though  they 
were  rivers  of  oil  and  tens  of  thousands  of  fat  beasts,  yet  they 
were  less  than  nothing,  and  contemptible,  in  comparison  with 
the  one  sacrifice  which  our  high  priest  hath  offered  once  for  all, 
whereby  he  hath  eternally  perfected  them  that  are  sanctified. 

We  have  thus  found  it  very  easy  to  set  forth  the  difference 
between  the  blood  of  Christ's  sprinkling  and  the  blood  which 
Abel  sprinkled.  But  now  I  take  it  that  there  is  a  deeper 
meaning  than  this,  despite  what  some  commentators  have  said. 
I  believe  that  the  allusion  hero  is  to  the  blood  of  the  murdered 
Abel.  Cain  smote  Abel,  and  doubtless  his  hands  and  the  altar 
were  stained  with  the  blood  of  him  who  had  acted  as  a  priest. 
"  Now,"  says  our  apostle,  "  that  blood  of  Abel  spoke."  We 
have  evidence  that  it  did,  for  God  said  to  Cain,  "  The  voice 
of  thy  brother's  blood  crieth  unto  me  from  the  ground  ;"  and 
the  apostle's  comment  upon  that  in  another  place  is — "  By 
faith  Abel  offered  unto  God  a  more  excellent  sacrifice  than 
Cain,  by  which  he  obtained  witness  that  he  was  righteous, 
God  testifying  of  his  gifts,  and  by  it  he  being  dead  yet 
speaketh  ;"  speaketh  through  his  blood,  his  blood  crying  unto 
God  from  the  ground.  Now,  Christ's  blood  speaks  too.  What 
is  the  difterence  between  the  two  voices  ? — for  we  are  told  in 
the  text  that  it  "  speaketh  better  tilings  than  that  of  Abel." 

Abel's  blood  spoke  in  a  threefold  manner.  It  spoke  in 
heaven ;  it  spoke  to  the  sons  of  men ;  it  spoke  to  the  con- 
science of  Cain.  The  blood  of  Christ  speaks  in  a  like  three- 
fold manner,  and  it  speaks  better  things. 

Firet,  the  blood  of  Abel  spoke  in  heaven.  Abel  was  a  holy 
man,  and  all  that  Cain  could  bring  against  him  was,  "  His  own 
works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's  were  righteous."     You  see 


70  THE   VOICE   OF    THE  BLOOD   OP   OHEIST. 

the  brothers  going  to  the  sacrifice  together.  Yoii  mark  the 
black  scowl  upon  the  brow  of  Cain,  when  Abel's  sacrifice  is 
accepted,  while  his  remains  untouched  by  the  sacred  fire. 
You  note  how  they  begin  to  talk  together — how  quietly  Abel 
argues  the  question,  and  how  ferociously  Cain  denounces  him. 
You  note  again  how  God  speaks  to  Cain,  and  warns  him  of 
the  evil  which  he  knew  was  in  his  heart ;  and  you  see  Cain,  as 
he  goes  from  the  presence  chamber  of  the  Most  High,  warned 
and  forewarned,  but  yet  with  the  dreadful  thought  in  his 
heart  that  he  will  imbrue  his  hands  in  his  brother's  blood.  He 
meets  his  brother ;  he  talks  friendly  with  him ;  he  gives  him, 
as  it  were,  the  kiss  of  Judas ;  he  entices  him  into  the  field 
where  he  is  alone ;  he  takes  him  unawares  ;  he  smites  him,  and 
smites  him  yet  again,  till  there  lies  the  murdered,  bleeding 
corpse  of  his  brother.  O  earth !  earth  !  earth !  cover  not  his 
blood.  This  is  the  first  murder  thou  hast  ever  seen,  the  first 
blood  of  man  that  ever  stained  thy  soil.  Hark  !  there  is  a  cry 
heard  in  heaven ;  the  angels  are  astonished  ;  they  rise  up  from 
their  golden  seats,  and  they  inquire,  "  What  is  that  cry  ?" 
God  looketh  upon  them,  and  he  saith,  "  It  is  the  cry  of  blood  ; 
a  man  hath  been  slain  by  his  fellow ;  a  brother  by  him  who 
came  from  the  bowels  of  the  self-same  mother  has  been  mur- 
dered in  cold  blood,  through  malice.  One  of  my  saints  has 
been  murdered,  and  here  he  comes."  And  Abel  entered  into 
heaven,  blood-red,  the  first  of  God's  elect  who  had  entered 
Paradise,  and  the  first  of  God's  children  who  had  worn  the 
blood-red  crown  of  martyrdom.  And  then  the  cry  was  heard, 
loud  and  clear  and  strong;  and  thus  it  spake— "Revenge! 
revenge !  revenge !"  And  God  himself,  upstarting  from  his 
throne,  summoned  the  culprit  to  his  presence  ;  questioned  him, 
condemned  him  out  of  his  own  mouth,  and  made  him  hence- 
forth a  fugitive  and  a  vagabond,  to  wander  over  the  surface 
of  the  earth,  which  was  to  be  sterile  henceforth  to  his  plow. 

And  now,  beloved,  just  contrast  with  this  the  blood  of 
Christ.  That  is  Jesus  Christ,  the  incarnate  Son  of  God ;  he 
hangs  upon  a  tree ;  he  is  murdered — murdered  by  his  own 
brethren.  "  He  came  unto  his  own,  and  his  own  received  him 
not,  but  his  own  led  him  out  to  death."    He  bleeds ;  he  dies ; 


THE   VOICE   OF  THE  BLOOD   OF  CHEIST.  71 

and  then  is  heard  a  cry  in  heaven.  The  astonished  angels 
again  start  from  their  seats,  and  they  say,  "  What  is  this  ? 
What  is  this  cry  that  we  hear  ?"  And  the  mighty  Maker 
answers  yet  again,  "It  is  the  cry  of  blood;  it  is  the  cry  of  the 
blood  of  my  only-begotten  and  well-beloved  Son !"  And 
God,  uprising  from  his  throne,  looks  down  from  heaven  and 
listens  to  the  cry.  And  what  is  the  cry  ?  It  is  not  revenge ; 
but  the  voice  crieth,  "  Mercy  !  mercy !  mercy  !"  Did  you 
not  hear  it  ?  It  said,  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do."  Herein,  the  blood  of  Christ  "  speaketh 
better  things  than  that  of  Abel ;"  for  Abel's  blood  said,  "  Re- 
venge !"  and  made  the  sword  of  God  start  from  its  scabbard ; 
but  Christ's  blood  cried  "  Mercy !"  and  sent  the  sword  back 
again,  and  bade  it  sleep  for  ever. 

"  Blood  hath  a  voice  to  pierce  the  skies ; 
'  Revenge ! '  the  blood  of  Abel  cries ; 
But  the  rich  blood  of  Jesus  slain, 
Breathes  peace  as  loud  from  every  vein." 

You  will  note  too  that  Abel's  blood  cried  for  revenge  upon 
one  man  only — upon  Cain  ;  it  required  the  death  of  but  one 
man  to  satisfy  for  it,  namely,  the  death  of  the  murderer. 
"  Blood  for  blood  !"  The  murderer  must  die  the  death.  But 
what  saith  Christ's  blood  in  heaven  ?  Does  it  speak  for  only 
one  ?  Ah !  no,  beloved  ;  "  the  free  gift  hath  come  upon 
many."  Christ's  blood  cries  mercy  !  mercy  !  mercy  !  not  on 
one,  but  upon  a  multitude  whom  no  man  can  number — ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand. 

Again ;  Abel's  blood  cried  to  heaven  for  revenge,  for  one 
transgression  of  Cain  ;  that  for  aught  that  Cain  had  done,  worth- 
less and  vile  before,  the  blood  of  Abel  did  not  demand  any 
revenge ;  it  was  for  the  one  sin  that  blood  clamored  at  the 
throne  of  God,  and  not  for  many  sins.  Not  so  the  voice  of 
the  blood  of  Christ.  It  is  "  for  many  oflfenses  unto  justifica- 
tion." Oh !  could  ye  hear  that  cry,  that  all-prevaihng  cry,  as 
now  it  comes  up  from  Calvary's  summit — "Father,  forgive 
them .'"  not  one,  but  many.  "  Father,  forgive  them."  And 
not  only  forgive  them  this  offense,  but  forgive  them  all  their 


72  THE   VOICE    OF   THE   BLOOD    OF   CHRIST. 

sins,  and  blot  out  all  their  iniquities.  Ah !  beloved,  we  might 
have  thought  that  the  blood  of  Christ  would  have  demanded 
vengeance  at  the  hands  of  God.  Surely,  if  Abel  be  revenged 
sevenfold,  then  must  Christ  be  revenged  seventy  times  seven. 
If  the  earth  would  not  swallow  up  the  blood  of  Abel  till  it 
had  had  its  fill,  surely  we  might  have  thought  that  the  earth 
never  would  have  covered  the  corpse  of  Christ,  until  God  had 
struck  the  world  with  fire  and  sword,  and  banished  all  men  to 
destruction.  But,  O  precious  blood  !  thou  sayest  not  one 
word  of  vengeance  !  All  that  this  blood  cries  is  peace  !  par- 
don! forgiveness!  mercy!  acceptance!  Truly  it  "speaketh 
better  things  than  that  of  Abel." 

Again  ;  Abel's  blood  had  a  second  voice.  It  spoke  to  the 
whole  world.  "  He  being  dead  yet  speaketh" — not  only  in 
heaven,  but  on  earth.  God's  prophets  are  a  speaking  people. 
They  speak  by  their  acts  and  by  their  words  as  long  as  they 
live,  and  when  they  are  buried  they  speak  by  their  example 
which  they  have  left  behind.  Abel  speaks  by  his  blood  to  us. 
And  what  does  it  say  ?  Whea  Abel  ofiered  up  his  victim 
upon  the  altar  he  said  to  us,  "  I  believe  in  a  sacrifice  that  is  to 
be  oflei'ed  for  the  sins  of  men  ;"  but  when  Abel's  own  blood 
was  sprinkled  on  the  altar  he  seemed  to  say,  "  Here  is  the 
ratification  of  my  faith ;  I  seal  my  testimony  with  my  own 
blood  ;  you  have  now  the  evidence  of  my  sincerity,  for  I  was 
prepared  to  die  for  the  defense  of  this  truth  which  I  now  witness 
unto  you."  It  was  a  great  thing  for  Abel  thus  to  ratify  his 
testimony  with  his  blood.  We  should  not  have  believed  the 
martyrs  half  so  easily  if  they  had  not  been  ready  to  die  for 
their  profession.  The  gospel  in  ancient  times  would  never 
have  spread  at  such  a  marvelous  rate,  if  it  had  not  been  that 
all  the  preachers  of  the  gospel  were  ready  at  any  time  to  attest 
their  message  with  their  own  blood.  But  Christ's  blood 
"  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel."  Abel's  blood 
ratified  his  testimony,  and  Christ's  blood  has  ratified  his  testi- 
mony too  ;  but  Christ's  testimony  is  better  than  that  of  Abel. 
For  what  is  the  testimony  of  Christ  ?  The  covenant  of  grace 
— that  everlasting  covenant.  He  came  into  this  world  to  tell 
us  that  God  had  from  the  beginning  chosen  his  people — that 


THE   VOICE    OF   THE    BLOOD    OP    CHRIST.  73 

he  had  ordained  them  to  eternal  life,  and  that  he  had  made  a 
covenant  with  his  Son  Jesns  Christ  that  if  he  would  pay  the 
price  they  should  go  free — if  he  would  suifer  in  their  stead 
they  should  be  delivered.  And  Christ  cried — 'ere  he  "bowed 
his  head  and  gave  up  the  ghost" — "  It  is  finished."  The  cove- 
nant purpose  is  finished.  That  purpose  was  "  to  finish  the 
transgression,  and  to  make  an  end  of  sins,  and  to  make  recon- 
ciliation for  iniquity,  and  to  bring  in  everlasting  righteous- 
ness." Such  was  the  testimony  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as 
his  own  blood  gushed  from  his  heart,  to  be  the  die-stamp  and 
seal  that  the  covenant  was  ratified.  When  I  see  Abel  die  I 
know  that  his  testimony  was  true  ;  but  when  I  see  Christ  die 
I  know  that  the  covenant  is  true. 

"  This  covenant,  0  believer,  stands 
Thj  rising  fears  to  quell ; 
'Tis  signed  and  sealed  and  ratified, 
In  all  things  ordered  well" 

When  he  bowed  his  head  and  gave  up  the  ghost,  he  did  as 
much  as  say,  "All  things  arc  made  sure  unto  the  seed  by  my 
giving  myself  a  victim."  Come,  saint,  and  see  the  covenant 
all  blood-bestained,  and  know  that  it  is  sure.  He  is  "the 
faithful  and  true  witness,  the  prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earth." 
First  of  martyrs,  my  Lord  Jesus,  thou  hadst  a  better  testimony 
to  witness  than  they  all,  for  thou  hast  witnessed  to  the  ever- 
lasting covenant ;  thou  hast  witnessed  that  thou  art  the  shep- 
herd and  bishop  of  souls  ;  thou  hast  witnessed  to  the  putting 
away  of  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  thyself.  Again  :  I  say,  come, 
ye  people  of  God,  and  read  over  the  golden  roll.  It  begins  in 
election — it  ends  in  everlasting  life,  and  all  this  the  blood  of 
Christ  crieth  in  your  ears.  All  this  is  true  ;  for  Christ's  blood 
proves  it  to  be  true,  and  to  be  sure  to  all  the  seed.  It 
"speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel." 

Now  we  come  to  the  third  voice  ;  for  the  blood  of  Abel  had 
a  threefold  sound.     It  spoke  in  the  conscience  of  Cain.  Hard-' 
ened  though  he  was,  and  like  a  very  devil  in  his  sin,  yet  he  was 
not  so  deaf  in  his  conscience  that  ho  could  not  hear  the  voice 
of  blood.     The  first  thing  that  Abel's  blood  said  to  Cain  was 


74  THE   VOICE    OP   THE   BLOOD    OP   CHRIST. 

this  :  "Ah  !  guilty  wretch,  to  spill  thy  brother's  blood  !"  As  he 
saw  it  trickling  from  the  wound  and  flowing  down  in  streams, 
he  looked  at  it,  and  as  the  sun  slione  on  it,  and  the  red  glare 
came  into  his  eye,  it  seemed  to  say,  "Ah  !  cursed  wretch,  for 
the  son  of  thine  own  mother  thou  hast  slain.  Thy  wrath  was 
vile  enough,  when  thy  countenance  fell,  but  to  rise  up  against 
thy  brother  and  take  away  his  life,  oh  !  how  vile  !"  It  seemed 
to  say  to  him,  "  What  had  he  done  that  thou  shouldst  take 
his  life  ?  Wherein  had  he  offended  thee  ?  Was  not  his  con- 
duct blameless,  and  his  conversation  pure?  If  thou  hadst 
smitten  a  villain  or  a  thief,  men  might  not  have  blamed  thee ; 
but  this  blood  is  pure,  clean,  perfect  blood  ;  how  couldst  thou 
kill  such  a  man  as  this?"  And  Cain  put  liis  hand  across  his 
brow,  and  felt  there  was  a  sense  of  guilt  there  that  he  had 
never  felt  before.  And  then  the  blood  said  to  him  again, 
"  Why,  whither  wilt  thou  go  ?  Thou  shalt  be  a  vagabond  as 
long  as  thou  livest."  A  cold  chill  ran  through  him,  and  he 
said,  "Whosoever  findeth  me  will  kill  me."  And  though 
God  promised  him  he  should  live,  no  doubt  he  was  always 
afraid.  If  he  saw  a  company  of  men  together,  he  would  hide 
himself  in  a  thicket,  or  if  in  his  solitary  wanderings  he  saw  a 
man  at  a  distance,  he  started  back,  and  sought  to  bury  his 
head,  so  that  none  should  observe  him.  In  the  stillness  of  the 
night  he  started  up  in  his  dreams.  It  was  but  his  wife  that 
slept  by  his  side ;  but  he  thought  he  felt  some  one's  hands 
griping  his  throat,  and  about  to  take  away  his  life.  Then  he 
would  sit  up  in  his  bed  and  look  around  at  the  grim  shadows, 
thinking  some  fiend  was  haunting  him  and  seeking  after  him. 
Then,  as  he  rose  to  go  about  his  business,  he  trembled.  He 
trembled  to  be  alone,  he  trembled  to  be  in  company.  When 
he  was  alone  he  seemed  not  to  be  alone ;  the  ghost  of  his 
brother  seemed  staring  him  in  the  face  ;  and  when  he  was  in 
company  he  dreaded  the  voice  of  men,  for  he  seemed  to  think 
every  one  cursed  him,  and  he  thought  every  one  knew  the 
crime  he  had  committed,  and  no  doubt  they  did,  and  every 
man  shunned  him.  No  one  would  take  his  hand,  for  it  was 
red  with  blood,  and  his  very  child  upon  his  knee  was  afraid  to 
look  up  into  his  father's  face,  for  there  was  the  mark  wdiich 


THE   TOICE    OF   THE   BLOOD    OF   CHRIST.  75 

God  had  set  upon  him.  His  very  wife  conld  scarcely  speak  to 
him — for  she  was  afraid  that  from  the  lips  of  him  who  had 
been  cursed  of  God  some  curse  might  fall  on  her.  The  very 
earth  cursed  him.  He  no  sooner  put  his  foot  upon  the  ground, 
than  where  it  had  been  a  garden  before  it  sudd^^nly  turned 
into  a  desert,  and  the  fair  rich  soil  became  hardened  into  an 
arid  rock.  Guilt,  like  a  grim  chamberlain,  with  fingers  bloody 
red,  did  draw  the  curtain  of  his  bed  each  night.  His  crime 
refused  him  sleep.  It  spoke  in  his  heart,  and  the  walls  of  his 
memory  reverberated  the  dying  cry  of  his  murdered  brother. 
And  no  doubt  that  blood  spoke  one  more  thing  to  Cain.  It 
said,  "  Cain,  although  thou  raayest  now  be  spared,  there  is  no 
hope  for  thee  ;  thou  art  a  man  accursed  on  earth,  and  accursed 
for  ever ;  God  hath  condemned  thee  here,  and  he  will  damn 
thee  hereafter."  And  so  wherever  Cain  went,  he  never  found 
hope.  Though  he  searched  for  it  in  the  mountain  top,  yet  he 
found  it  not  there.  Hope  that  was  left  to  all  men,  was  denied 
to  him  :  a  hopeless,  houseless,  helpless  vagabond,  he  vjandered 
up  and  down  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Oh  !  Abel's  blood  had 
a  terrible  voice  indeed. 

But  now  see  the  sweet  change  as  ye  listen  to  the  blood  of 
Christ.  It  "speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel." 
Friend  !  hast  thou  ever  heard  the  blood  of  Christ  in  thy  con- 
science ?  I  have,  and  I  thank  God  I  ever  heard  that  sweet 
soft  voice. 

"  Once  a  sinner  near  despair, 
Sought  the  mercy-seat  by  prayer." 

He  prayed :  he  thought  he  w^as  praying  in  vam.  No  tears 
gushed  from  his  eyes  ;  his  heart  was  heavy  within  him ;  he 
sought,  but  he  found  no  mercy.  Again,  again,  and  yet  again, 
he  besieged  the  throne  of  heavenly  grace  and  knocked  at 
mercy's  door.  Oh !  who  can  tell  the  mill-stone  that  lay  upon 
his  beating  heart,  and  the  iron  that  did  cat  into  his  soul.  He 
was  a  prisoner  in  sore  bondage  ;  deep,  as  he  thought,  in  the 
pondage  of  despair  was  he  chained,  to  perish  for  ever.  That 
prisoner  one  day  heard  a  voice,  which  said  to  him,  "  Away, 
away,  to  Calvary  !"  Yet  he  trembled  at  the  voice,  for  he 
said,  "  Why  should  I  go  thither,  for  there  my  blackest  sin  was 


Y6  THE   VOICE    OF   THE   BLOOD    OF    CHKIST. 

committed ;  there  I  murdered  the  Saviour  by  my  transgres- 
sions ?  Why  should  I  go  to  see  the  murdered  corpse  of  him 
who  became  my  brother  born  for  adversity  ?"  But  mercy 
beckoned,  and  she  said,  "  Come,  come  away,  sinner !"  And 
the  sinner  followed.  The  chains  were  on  his  legs  and  on  his 
hands,  and  he  could  scarcely  creep  along.  Still  the  black  vul- 
ture Destruction  seemed  hovering  in  the  air.  But  he  crept  as 
best  he  could,  till  he  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  Calvary. 
On  the  summit  he  saw  a  cross  ;  blood  was  distilling  from  the 
hands,  and  from  the  feet,  and  from  the  side  ;  and  Mercy  touched 
his  ears  and  said,  "  Listen  !"  and  he  heard  that  blood  speak ; 
and  as  it  spoke  the  first  thing  it  said  was,  "  Love  !"  And  the 
second  thing  it  said  was,  "  Mercy !"  The  third  thing  it  said 
was,  "Pardon."  The  next  thing  it  said  was,  "Acceptance." 
The  next  thing  it  said  was,  "Adoption."  The  next  thing  it 
said  was,  "  Security."  And  the  last  thing  it  whispered  was, 
*'  Heaven."  And  as  the  sinner  heard  the  voice,  he  said  within 
himself,  "  And  does  that  blood  speak  to  me  ?"  And  the 
Spirit  said,  "  To  thee — to  thee  it  speaks."  And  he  listened, 
and  oh  what  music  did  it  seem  to  his  poor  troubled  heart,  for 
in  a  moment  all  his  doubts  were  gone.  He  had  no  sense  of 
guilt.  He  knew  that  he  was  vile,  but  he  saw  that  his  vileness 
was  all  washed  away;  he  knew  that  he  was  guilty, but  he  saw 
his  guilt  all  atoned  for,  through  that  precious  blood  that  was 
flowing  there.  He  had  been  full  of  dread  before:  he  dreaded 
life,  he  dreaded  death  ;  but  now  he  had  no  dread  at  all;  a  joy- 
ous confidence  took  possession  of  his  heart.  He  looked  to 
Christ,  and  he  said,  "  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth  ;"  he 
clasped  the  Saviour  in  his  arms,  and  he  began  to  sing  — '*  Oh  I 
confident  am  I ;  for  this  blessed  blood  was  shed  for  me."  And 
then  Despair  fled  and  Destruction  was  driven  clean  away ;  and 
instead  thereof  came  the  bright  white-winged  angel  of  Assur- 
ance, and  she  dwelt  in  his  bosom,  saying  evermore  to  him, 
"Thou  art  accepted  in  the  Beloved  :  thou  art  chosen  of  God 
and  precious :  thou  art  his  child  now,  and  thou  shalt  be  his 
favorite  throughout  eternity."  "  The  blood  of  Christ  speaketh 
better  things  than  that  of  Abel." 

And  now  I  must  have  you  notice  that  the  blood  of  Christ 


THE   VOICE   OF   THE   BLOOD   OF   CHEIST.  77 

bears  a  comj^ariso?!  with  the  blood  of  Abel  in  one  or  two  re- 
spects, but  it  excelleth  in  them  all. 

The  blood  of  Abel  cried  "  Justice !"  It  was  but  right  that 
the  blood  should  be  revenged.  Abel  had  no  private  pique 
against  Cain  ;  doubtless  could  Abel  have  done  so,  he  would 
have  forgiven  his  brother ;  but  the  blood  spoke  justly,  and  only- 
asked  its  due  when  it  shouted  "  Vengeance  !  vengeance !  ven- 
geance !"  And  Christ's  blood  speaketh  justly,  when  it  saith, 
"  Mercy  !"  Christ  has  as  much  right  to  demand  mercy  upon 
sinners,  as  Abel's  blood  had  to  cry  vengeance  against  Cain. 
When  Christ  saves  a  sinner,  he  does  not  save  him  on  the  sly, 
or  against  law  or  justice,  but  he  saves  him  justly.  Christ  has 
a  light  to  save  whom  he  will  save,  to  have  mercy  on  whom  he 
will  have  mercy,  for  he  can  do  it  justly,  he  can  be  just,  and 
yet  be  the  justifier  of  the  ungodly. 

Again  ;  Abel's  blood  cried  effectively.  It  did  not  cry  in  vain. 
It  said,  "  Revenge  !"  and  revenge  it  had.  And  Christ's.blood, 
blessed  be  his  name,  never  cries  in  vain.  It  saith,  "  Pardon  ;" 
and  pardon  every  believer  shall  have  ;  it  saith,  "  Acceptance," 
and  every  penitent  is  accepted  in  the  Beloved.  If  that  blood 
cry  for  me,  I  know  it  can  not  cry  in  vain.  That  all-prevailing 
blood  of  Christ  shall  never  miss  its  due ;  it  must,  it  shall  bo 
heard.  Shall  Abel's  blood  startle  heaven,  and  shall  not  the 
blood  of  Christ  reach  the  ears  of  the  Lord  God  of  Sabaoth  ? 

And  again,  Abel's  blood  cries  continually ;  there  is  the  mercy- 
seat,  and  there  is  the  cross,  and  the  blood  is  dropping  on  the 
mercy-seat.  I  have  sinned  a  sin.  Chnst  says,  "  Father,  for- 
give him."  There  is  one  drop.  I  sin  again :  Christ  intercedes 
again.  There  is  another  drop.  In  fact,  it  is  the  drop  that  in- 
tercedes. Christ  need  not  speak  with  his  mouth  ;  the  drops  of 
blood,  as  they  fall  upon  the  mercy-scat,  each  seemeth  to  say, 
"  Forgive  him !  forgive  him  !  forgive  him !" 

Dear  friend,  when  thou  hearest  the  voice  of  conscience, 
stop  and  try  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  blood  too.  Oh  !  what  a 
precious  thing  it  is  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  blood  of  Christ. 
You  who  do  not  know  what  that  means,  do  not  know  the  very 
essence  and  joy  of  life ;  but  you  who  understand  that,  can 
say,  "  The  dropping  of  the  blood  is  like  the  music  of  heaven 


78  THE   VOICE    OF   THE   BLOOD    OP   CHRIST. 

upon  earth."  Poor  sinner!  I  would  ask  thee  to  come  and 
listen  to  that  voice  that  distills  upon  thy  ears  and  upon  thy 
heart  to-day.  Thou  art  full  of  sin  ;  the  Saviour  bids  thee  lift 
thine  eyes  to  him.  See  there,  his  blood  is  flowing  from  his 
head,  his  hands,  his  feet,  and  evevy  drop  that  falls  still  cries, 
"  Father,  O  forgive  them !  Father,  O  forgive  them."  And 
each  drop  seems  to  say  also  as  it  falls,  "  It  is  finished  :  I  have 
made  an  end  of  sin,  I  have  brought  in  everlasting  righteous- 
ness." Oh  !  sweet,  sweet  language  of  the  dropping  of  the 
blood  of  Christ !  It  "  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of 
Abel." 

II.  Having  thus,  I  trust,  sufiiciently  enlarged  upon  this  sub- 
ject, I  shall  now  close  by  addressing  you  with  a  few  earnest 
words  concerning  the  second  point — the  condition  into 
WHICH  EYEEY  CHRISTIAN  IS  BROUGHT.  He  is  Said  to  be  "  comc 
to  the  blood  of  sprinkhng."  I  shall  make  this  a  very  brief 
matter,  but  a  very  solemn  and  pointed  one.  My  hearers,  have 
you  come  to  the  blood  of  Christ  ?  I  do  not  ask  you  whether 
you  have  come  to  a  knowledge  of  doctrine,  or  of  an  observ- 
ance of  ceremonies,  or  of  a  certain  form  of  experience;  but 
I  ask  you  if  you  have  come  to  the  blood  of  Christ.  If  you 
have,  I  know  how  you  come.  You  must  come  to. the  blood 
of  Christ  with  no  merits  of  your  own.  Guilty,  lost,  and  help- 
less, you  must  come  to  that  blood,  and  to  that  blood  alone,  for 
your  hopes ;  you  come  to  the  cross  of  Christ  and  to  that  blood 
too,  I  know,  with  a  trembling  and  an  aching  heart.  Some  of 
you  remember  how  you  first  came,  cast  down  and  full  of  de- 
spair ;  but  that  blood  recovered  you.  And  this  one  thing  I 
know :  if  you  have  come  to  that  blood  once,  you  will  come  to 
it  every  day.  Your  life  will  be  just  this — "looking  unto 
Jesus."  And  your  whole  conduct  will  be  epitomized  in  this 
— "  to  whom  coming  as  unto  a  living  stone."  Not  to  whom 
I  have  come,  but  to  whom  I  am  always  coming.  If  thou  hast 
ever  come  to  the  blood  of  Christ  thou  wilt  feel  thy  need  of 
coming  to  it  every  day.  He  that  does  not  desire  to  wash  in 
that  fountain  every  day,  has  never  washed  in  it  at  all.  I  feel  it 
every  day  to  be  my  joy  and  my  privilege  that  tliere  is  still  a 
fountain  opened.     I  trust  I  came  to  Christ  years  ago  ;  but  ah ! 


THE   VOICE   OF  THE  BLOOD    OF   CHRIST.  Y9 

I  could  not  trust  to  that,  unless  I  could  come  again  to-day. 
Past  experiences  are  doubtful  things  to  a  Chi'istian ;  it  is  pres- 
ent coming  to  Christ  that  must  give  us  joy  and  comfort.  Did 
you  not,  some  of  you,  sing,  twenty  years  ago,  that  hymn, 

*'  My  faith  doth  lay  her  hand 
On  that  dear  head  of  thine, 
WTiile  like  a  penitent  I  stand, 
And  there  confess  my  sin  ?" 

Why,  beloved,  you  can  sing  it  as  well  to-day  as  you  did  then. 
I  was  reading  the  other  day  some  book,  in  which  the  author 
states,  that  we  are  not  to  come  to  Christ  as  sinners  as  long  as 
we  live  ;  he  says  we  are  to  grow  into  saints.  Ah  !  he  did  not 
know  much,  I  am  sure ;  for  saints  are  sinners  still,  and  they 
have  always  to  come  to  Christ  as  sinners.  If  ever  I  go  to  the 
throne  of  God  as  a  saint,  I  get  repulsed ;  but  when  I  go  just 
as  a  poor,  humble,  seeking  sinner,  relying  upon  nothing  but  thy 
blood,  O  Jesus,  I  never  can  get  a  repulse,  I  am  sure.  To  whom 
coming  as  unto  "  blood  that  speaketh  better  things  than  that 
of  Abel."    Let  this  be  our  experience  every  day. 

But  there  are  some  here  who  confess  that  they  never  did 
come.  I  can  not  exhort  you,  then,  to  come  every  day,  but  I 
exhort  you  to  come  now  for  the  first  time.  But  you  say, 
*'  May  I  come  ?"  Yes,  if  thou  art  wishing  to  come  thou  may- 
est  come ;  if  thou  feelest  that  thou  hast  need  to  come  thou 
mayest  come. 

"  AU  the  fitness  he  requireth. 
Is  to  feel  your  need  of  him :" 


And  even 


"  This  he  gives  you, 
'Tis  his  Spirit's  rising  beam," 


But  you  say,  "  I  must  bring  some  merits."  Hark  to  the  blood 
that  speaks !  It  says,  "  Sinner,  I  am  full  of  merits :  why  bring 
thy  merits  here?"  "Ah!  but,"  thou  sayest,  "I  have  too 
much  sin."  Hark  to  the  blood  :  as  it  falls,  it  cries,  "  Of  many 
offenses  unto  justification  of  life."  "Ah!  but,"  thou  sayest, 
"  I  know  I  am  too  guilty."  Hark  to  the  blood  !  "  Though 
your  sins  be  as  scarlet  I  will  make  them  as  wool ;  though  they 


80  THE  VOICE    OP   THE  BLOOD    OF   CHEIST. 

be  red  like  crimson  they  shall  he  whiter  than  snow."  "  N'ay," 
says  one,  "  hut  I  have  such  a  poor  desire,  I  have  such  a  little 
faith."  Hark  to  the  blood  !  "  The  bruised  reed  I  will  not 
break,  and  smoking  flax  I  will  not  quench."  "  ^iiy,  but," 
thou  sayest,  "I  know  he  will  cast  me  out  if  I  do  come." 
Hark  to  the  blood !  "  All  that  the  Father  giveth  me  shall 
come  to  me,  and  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out."  "Nay,  but,"  sayest  thou,  "I  know  I  have  so 
many  sins  that  I  can  not  be  forgiven."  N'ow,  hear  the 
blood  once  more,  and  I  have  done.  "  The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  That  is  the  blood's 
testimony,  and  its  testimony  to  thee.  "  There  are  three  that 
bear  witness  on  earth,  the  Spirit,  and  the  water,  and  the 
blood;"  and  behold  the  blood's  witness  is — "The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  Come,  poor 
sinner,  cast  thyself  simply  on  that  truth.  Away  with  your 
good  works  and  all  your  trustings !  Lie  simply  flat  on  that 
sweet  word  of  Christ.  Trust  his  blood ;  and  if  thou  canst 
put  thy  trust  alone  in  Jesus,  in  his  sprinkled  blood,  it  shall 
speak  in  thy  conscience  better  things  than  that  of  Abel. 

I  am  afraid  there  are  many  who  do  not  know  what  we  mean 
by  believing.  Good  Dr.  Chalmers  once  visiting  a  poor  old 
woman,  told  her  to  believe  in  Christ,  and  she  said,  "  But  that  is 
just  the  thing  I  do  not  know  wh^t  you  mean  by."  So  Dr. 
Chalmers  said,  "  Trust  Christ."  ISTow,  that  is  just  the  mean- 
ing  of  believing.  Trust  him  with  your  soul ;  trust  him  with 
your  sins;  trust  him  with  the  future ;  trust  him  with  the  past ; 
trust  him  with  every  thing.     Say, 

"  A  guilty,  weak,  and  worthless  worm, 
On  Christ's  kind  arms  I  fall ; 
Be  thou  my  strength  and  righteousness, 
My  Jesus  and  my  all." 

May  the  Lord  now  give  you  his  blessing ;  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.    Amen. 


SERMOK  V. 
THE    NEW    HEART. 

"  A  new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within  you ; 
and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give  you 
an  heart  of  flesh." — ^Ezekiel,  xxxvi.  26. 

Behold  a  wonder  of  divine  love.  When  God  naaketh  his 
creatures,  one  creation  he  rcgardeth  as  sufficient,  and  should 
they  lapse  from  the  condition  in  which  he  has  created  them, 
he  suffers  them,  as  a  rule,  to  endure  the  penalty  of  their  trans- 
gression, and  to  abide  in  the  place  into  which  they  are  fallen. 
But  here  he  makes  an  exception  ;  man,  fallen  man,  created  by 
his  Maker,  pure  and  holy,  hath  wilfully  and  wickedly  rebelled 
against  the  Most  High,  and  lost  his  first  estate,  but  behold,  he 
is  to  be  the  subject  of  a  new  creation  through  the  power  of 
God's  Holy  Spirit.  Behold  this  and  wonder !  What  is  man 
compared  with  an  angel  ?  Is  he  not  little  and  insignificant  ? 
"And  the  angels  which  kept  not  their  first  estate,  but  left  their 
own  habitation,  he  hath  reserved  in  everlasting  chains  under 
darkness  unto  the  judgment  of  the  great  day."  God  hath  no 
mercy  upon  them  ;  he  made  them  pure  and  holy,  and  they 
ought  to  have  remained  so,  but  inasmuch  as  they  wilfully  re- 
belled, he  cast  them  down  from  their  shining  seats  forever  ;  and 
without  a  single  promise  of  mercy,  he  hath  bound  them  fast 
in  the  fetters  of  destiny,  to  abide  in  eternal  torment.  But 
wonder,  ye  heavens,  the  God  who  destroyed  the  angels  stoops 
from  his  highest  throne  in  glory,  and  speaks  to  his  creature 
man,  and  thus  saith  unto  him — "  Now,  thou  hast  fallen  from 
me  even  as  the  angels  did  ;  thou  hast  grossly  erred,  and  gone 
astray  from  ray  ways — not  for  thy  sake  do  I  this,  but  for  mine 
own  name's  sake — behold  I  will  undo  the  mischief  which  thine 
own  hand  hath  done :  I  will  take  away  that  heart  which  has 

4* 


82  THE   NEW    HEART. 

rebelled  against  me.  Having  made  thee  once,  thou  hast  un- 
made thyself — I  will  make  thee  over  again.  I  will  put  my 
hand  a  second  time  to  the  work ;  once  more  shalt  thou  revolve 
upon  the  potter's  wheel,  and  I  will  make  thee  a  vessel  of 
honor,  fit  for  my  gracious  use.  I  will  take  away  thy  stony 
heart,  and  give  thee  a  heart  of  flesh  ;  a  new  heart  will  I  give 
thee  ;  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within  thee."  Is  not  this  a  won- 
der of  divine  sovereignty  and  of  infinite  grace,  that  mighty 
angels  should  be  cast  into  the  fire  forever,  and  yet  God  hath 
made  a  covenant  with  man  that  he  will  renew  and  restore 
him  ? 

And  now^,  my  dear  friends,  I  shall  attempt  this  morning,  first 
of  all,  to  show  the  necessity  for  the  great  promise  contained 
in  my  text^  that  God  will  give  us  a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit ; 
and  after  that,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  the  nature  of  the  great 
woric  which  God  worJcs  in  the  soul,  when  he  accomplishes  this 
proinise ;  afterwards,  a  feio  personal  remarks  to  all  my 
hearers. 

I.  In  the  first  j^lace,  it  is  my  business  to  endeavor  to  show 

THE   NECESSITY   FOR   THIS    GREAT   PROMISE.      Not  that  it  Uecds 

any  showing  to  the  quickened  and  enlightened  Christian  ;  but 
this  is  for  the  conviction  of  the  ungodly,  and  for  the  humbhng 
of  our  carnal  pride.  O  that  this  morning  the  gracious  Spirit 
may  teach  us  our  depravity,  that  we  may  thereby  be  driven 
to  seek  the  fulfilment  of  this  mercy,  which  is  most  assuredly 
and  abundantly  necessary,  if  we  would  be  saved.  You  will 
notice  that  in  my  text  God  does  not  promise  to  us  that  he  will 
improve  our  nature,  that  he  will  mend  our  broken  hearts.  No, 
the  promise  is  that  he  will  give  us  new  hearts  and  right  spirits. 
Human  nature  is  too  far  gone  ever  to  be  mended.  It  is  not  a 
house  that  is  a  little  out  of  repair,  with  here  and  there  a  slate 
blown  from  the  roof,  and  here  and  there  a  piece  of  plaster 
broken  down  from  the  ceiling.  No,  it  is  rotten  throughout, 
the  very  foundations  have  been  sapped  ;  there  is  not  a  single 
timbci-  in  it  which  has  not  been  eaten  by  the  worm,  from  its 
uppermost  roof  to  its  lowest  foundation  ;  there  is  no  soundness 
in  it ;  it  is  all  rottenness  and  ready  to  fall.  God  doth  not 
attempt  to  mend  ;  he  does  not  shore  up  the  walls,  and  re-paint 


THE  NETT   HEART.  83 

the  door ;  he  does  not  garnish  and  beautify,  but  he  determines 
that  the  old  house  shall  be  entirely  swept  away,  and  that  he 
will  build  a  new  one.  It  is  too  flir  gone,  I  say,  to  be  mended. 
If  it  were  only  a  little  out  of  repair,  it  might  be  mended.  If 
only  a  wheel  or  two  of  that  great  thing  called  "manhood" 
were  out  of  repair,  then  he  who  made  man  might  put  the 
whole  to  rights  ;  he  might  put  a  new  cog  where  it  had  been 
broken  off,  and  another  wheel  where  it  had  gone  to  ruin,  and 
the  machine  might  work  anew.  But  no,  the  whole  of  it  is 
out  of  repair  ;  there  is  not  one  lever  which  is  not  broken  ;  not 
one  axle  which  is  not  disturbed  ;  not  one  of  the  wheels  which 
act  upon  the  others.  The  whole  head  is  sick,  and  the  whole 
heart  is  faint.  From  the  sole  of  the  foot,  to  the  crown  of  the 
head,  it  is  all  wounds  and  bruises  and  putrifying  sores.  The 
Lord,  therefore,  does  not  attempt  the  repairing  of  this  thing ; 
but  he  says,  "  I  will  give  you  a  new  heart,  and  a  right  spirit 
will  I  put  within  you ;  I  will  take  away  the  heart  of  stone,  I 
will  not  try  to  soften  it,  I  will  let  it  be  as  stony  as  ever  it  w^as, 
but  I  will  take  it  away,  and  I  will  give  you  a  new  heart,  and 
it  shall  be  a  heart  of  flesh." 

Now  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  that  God  is  justified  in  this, 
and  that  there  was  an  abundant  necessity  for  his  resolution  to 
to  do  so.  For  in  the  first  place,  if  you  consider  what  human  na- 
ture has  been,  and  what  it  is,  you  will  not  be  very  long  before 
you  will  say  of  it,  "  Ah,  it  is  a  hopeless  case  indeed." 

Consider,  then,  for  a  moment  how  bad  human  nature  must 
be  if  we  think  how  ill  it  has  treated  its  God.  I  remember 
William  Huntingdon  says  in  his  autobiography,  that  one  of 
the  sharpest  sensations  of  pain  that  he  felt  after  he  had  been 
quickened  by  divine  grace  was  this,  *'  He  felt  such  pity  for 
God."  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  met  with  the  expression 
elsewhere,  but  it  is  a  very  expressive  one  ;  although  I  might 
prefer  to  say  sympathy  with  God  and  grief  that  he  should  bo 
so  evil  entreated.  Ah,  my  friends,  there  are  manyjnen  that 
are  forgotten,  that  are  despised,  and  that  are  trampled  on  by 
their  fellows ;  but  there  never  was  a  man  who  was  so  despised 
as  the  everlasting  God  has  been.  Many  a  man  has  been  slan- 
dered and  abused,  but  never  was  man  abused  as  God  has  been* 


84  THE    NEW    HEAET. 

Many  have  been  treated  cruelly  and  ungratefully,  but  never 
one  was  treated  as  our  God  has  been.  Let  us  look  back  upon 
our  past  lives — how  ungrateful  have  we  been  to  him  !  It  was 
he  who  gave  us  being,  and  the  first  utterance  of  our  lips  should 
have  been  in  his  praise  ;  and  sodong  as  we  were  here,  it  was 
our  duty  to  have  perpetually  sung  his  glory ;  but  instead  of 
that,  from  our  birth  we  spoke  that  which  was  false  and  un- 
true, and  unholy ;  and  since  then  we  have  continued  to  do  the 
isame.  "We  have  never  returned  his  mercies  into  his  bosom 
with  gratitude  and  thankfulness  ;  but  we  have  let  them  lie  for- 
gotten without  a  single  hallelujah,  from  our  carelessness  con- 
cerning the  Most  High,  that  he  had  entirely  forgotten  us,  and 
that  therefore  v/e  were  trying  to  forget  him.  It  is  so  very  sel- 
dom that  we  think  of  him  that  one  would  imagine  that  surely 
he  never  gave  us  occasion  to  think  of  him.     Addison  said, — 

"  When  all  thy  mercies,  0  my  God, 
My  rising  soul  surveys, 
Transported  with  the  view  I'm  lost 
In  wonder,  love,  and  praise." 

But  I  think  if  we  look  back  with  the  eye  of  penitence  we  shall 
be  lost  in  wonder,  shame,  and  grief,  for  our  cry  will  be,  "  What ! 
could  I  treat  so  good  a  friend  so  ill  ?  Have  I  had  so  gracious 
a  benefactor,  and  have  I  been  so  unmindful  of  him  ;  and  so 
devoted  a  fiither,  and  yet  have  I  never  embraced  him  ?  Have 
I  never  given  him  the  kiss  of  my  affectionate  gratitude  ?  Have 
I  never  studied  to  do  something  whereby  I  might  let  him  know 
that  I  was  conscious  of  his  kindness,  and  that  I  felt  a  grateful 
return  in  my  bosom  for  his  love  ?" 

But  worse  than  this,  we  have  not  only  been  forgetful  of 
him,  but  we  have  rebelled  against  him.  We  have  assailed  the 
Most  High.  If  we  knew  that  anything  was  God-like  we  hated 
it  at  once  ;  we  have  despised  his  people,  we  have  called  them 
cants,  and  hypocrites,  and  Methodists.  We  have  despised  his 
day ;  he  set  it  apart  on  purpose  for  our  good,  and  that  day  we 
take  for  our  own  pleasure  and  our  own  labor  instead  of  conse- 
crating it  to  him.  He  gave  us  a  book  as  a  love-token,  and  he 
desired  us  to  read  it,  for  it  was  full  of  love  to  us  ;  and  we  have 
kept  it  fast  closed  till  the  very  spiders  have  spun  their  cobwebs 


THE   NEW    HEART.  86 

over  the  leaves.  He  opened  a  house  of  prayer  and  bade  us  go 
there,  and  there  would  he  meet  with  us  and  speak  to  us  from 
off  the  mercy  seat ;  but  we  have  often  preferred  the  theatre 
to  God's  house,  and  have  been  found  listening  to  any  sound 
rather  than  the  voice  which  speaketh  from  heaven. 

Ah,  my  friends,  I  say  again  there  never  was  a  man  treated 
by  his  fellow-creatures,  even  by  the  worst  of  men,  so  bad  as 
God  has  been,  and  yet  while  men  have  been  ill  treating  him, 
he  has  still  continued  to  bless  them  ;  he  has  put  breath  into 
the  nostrils  of  man,  even  while  he  has  been  cursing  him ;  has 
given  him  food  to  eat  even  while  he  has  been  spending  the 
strength  of  his  body  in  warfare  against  the  Most  High  ;  and 
on  the  very  Sabbath,  when  you  have  been  breaking  his  com- 
mandment and  spending  the  day  on  your  own  lusts,  it  is  he  who 
has  given  light  to  your  eyes,  breath  to  your  lungs,  and  strength 
to  your  nerves  and  sinews  ;  blessing  you  even  while  you  have 
been  cursing  him.  Oh!  it  is  a  mercy  that  he  is  God,  and 
changeth  not,  or  else  we  sons  of  Jacob  would  long  ago  have 
been  consumed,  and  justly  too. 

You  may  picture  to  yourselves,  if  you  like,  a  poor  creature 
dying  in  a  ditch.  I  trust  that  such  a  thing  never  happens  in 
this  land,  but  such  a  thing  might  happen  as  a  man  who  had 
been  rich  on  a  sudden  becoming  poor,  and  all  his  friends  de- 
serting and  leaving  him ;  he  begs  for  bread  and  no  man  will 
help  him,  until  at  last,  without  a  rag  to  cover  him,  his  poor 
body  yields  up  life  in  a  ditch.  This,  I  think,  is  the  very  ex- 
treme  of  human  negligence  to  mankind  ;  but  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God,  was  treated  even  worse  than  this.  It  would  have 
been  a  thousand  mercies  to  him  if  they  had  permitted  him  to 
die  unregarded  in  a  ditch  ;  but  that  would  have  been  too  good 
for  human  nature.  He  must  know  the  very  worst,  and  there- 
fore God  allowed  human  nature  to  take  Christ  and  nail  him  to 
the  tree.  He  allowed  it  to  stand  and  mock  his  thirst  and  offer 
him  vinegar,  and  taunt  and  jeer  him  in  the  extreme  of  his  ago> 
nios ;  it  allowed  human  nature  to  make  him  its  jest  and  scorn, 
and  stand  staring  with  lascivious  and  cruel  eyes  upon  liis 
stripped  and  naked  body. 

Oh  !  shnme  on  manhood  :  never  could  there  have  been  a 


86  THE    NEW    HEART. 

creature  worse  than  man.  The  very  beasts  are  better  than 
man,  for  man  has  all  the  worst  attributes  of  the  beasts  and 
none  of  their  best.  He  has  the  fierceness  of  the  lion  without 
its  nobility  ;  he  has  the  stubbornness  of  an  ass  without  its  pa- 
tience ;  he  has  all  the  devouring  gluttony  of  the  wolfj  without 
the  wisdom  which  bids  it  avoid  the  trap.  He  is  a  carrion  vul- 
ture but  he  is  never  satisfied ;  he  is  a  very  serpent  with  the 
poison  of  asps  beneath  his  tongfle,  but  he  spits  his  venom  afar 
off  as  well  as  nigh.  Ah,  if  you  think  of  human  nature  as  it 
acts  tow\irds  God,  you  will  say  indeed  it  is  too  bad  to  be 
mended,  it  must  be  made  anew. 

Again,  there  is  another  aspect  in  which  we  may  regard  the 
sinfulness  of  human  nature  :  that  is  its  pride.  It  is  the  very 
worst  phase  of  man — that  he  is  so  proud.  Beloved,  pride  is 
woven  into  the  very  warp  and  woof  of  our  nature,  and  we 
shall  never  get  rid  of  it  until  we  are  wrapped  in  our  winding 
sheet.  It  is  astonishing,  that  when  we  are  at  our  prayers — 
when  we  try  to  make  use  of  humble  expressions,  we  are  be- 
trayed into  pride.  It  was  but  the  other  day,  I  found  myself 
on  my  knees  making  use  of  such  an  expression  as  this :  "  O 
Lord,  I  grieve  before  thee,  that  ever  Z  should  have  been  such 
a  sinner  as  I  have  been.  Oh  that  i" should  ever  have  revolted 
and  rebelled  as  I  have  done."  There  was  pride  in  that ;  for 
who  am  I  ?  Was  there  any  wonder  in  it  ?  I  ought  to  have 
known  that  I  was  myself  so  sinful  that  there  was  no  wonder 
that  I  should  have  gone  astray.  The  wonder  was,  that  I  had 
not  been  even  worse,  and  there  the  credit  was  due  to  God,  not 
to  myself.  So  that  when  we  are  trying  to  be  humble,  we  may 
be  foolishly  rushing  into  pride.  What  a  strange  thing  it  is  to 
see  a  sinful,  guilty  wretch  proud  of  his  morality  !  and  yet  that 
is  a  thing  you  may  see  every  day.  A  man  who  is  an  enemy 
to  God,  proud  of  his  honesty,  and  yet  h^  is  robbing  God ;  a 
man  proud  of  his  chastity,  and  yet  if  he  knev»^  his  own  thoughts, 
they  are  full  of  lasciviousness  and  uncleanness  ;  a  man  pi-oud 
of  the  praise  of  his  fellows,  while  he  knows  himself  that  he 
has  the  blame  of  his  own  conscience  and  the  blame  of  God 
Almighty.  It  is  a  wild,  strange  thing  to  think  that  man  should 
be  proud,  when  he  has  nothing  to  be  proud  of.    A  living,  ani- 


THE   NEW   HEART.  87 

mated  lump  of  clay — defiled  and  filthy,  a  living  hell,  and  yet 
proud.  I,  a  base-born  son  of  one  that  robbed  his  Master's 
garden  of  old,  and  went  astray  and  would  not  be  obedient ; 
of  one  that  sunk  his  whole  estate  for  the  paltry  bribe  of  a  sin- 
gle apple  !  and  yet  proud  of  my  ancestry  I  I,  who  am  living 
on  God's  daily  charity  to  be  proud  of  my  wealth  !  when  I  have 
not  a  single  farthing  with  which  to  bless  myseUj  unless  God 
chooses  to  give  it  to  me.  I,  that  came  naked  into  this  world, 
and  must  go  naked  out  of  it !  I,  proud  of  my  riches — what  a 
strange  thing  !  I,  a  wild  ass's  colt,  a  fool  that  knoweth  noth- 
ing, proud  of  my  learning !  Oh,  what  a  strange  thing,  that 
the  fool  called  man,  should  call  himself  a  doctor,  and  make 
himself  a  master  of  all  arts,  when  he  is  a  master  of  none,  and 
is  most  a  fool  when  he  thinks  his  wisdom  culminates  to  its 
highest  point.  And  oh,  strangest  of  all,  that  man  who  has  a 
deceitful  heart^full  of  all  manner  of  evil  concupiscence,  and 
adultery,  idolatry,  and  lust,  should  yet  talk  about  being  a  good- 
hearted  fellow,  and  should  pride  himself  upon  having  at  least 
some  good  points  about  him,  which  may  deserve  the  venera- 
tion of  his  fellows,  if  not  some  consideration  from  the  Most 
High.  Ah,  human  nature,  this  is,  then,  thine  own  condemna- 
tion, that  thou  art  insanely  j^roud,  while  thou  hast  nothing  to 
be  proud  of.  Write  *'  Ichabod"  upon  it.  The  glory  has  de- 
parted for  ever  from  human  nature.  Let  it  be  put  away,  and 
let  God  give  us  something  new  for  the  old  can  never  be  made 
better.     It  is  helplessly  insane,  decrepit,  and  defiled. 

Furthermore,  it  is  quite  certain  that  human  nature  can  not 
be  made  better,  for  many  have  tried  it,  but  they  have  always 
failed.  A  man,  trying  to  improve  human  nature,  is  like  trying 
to  change  the  position  of  a  weathercock,  by  turning  it  round 
to  the  east  when  the  wind  is  blowing  west ;  he  has  but  to  take 
his  hand  oflf  and  it  will  be  back  again  to  its  place.  So  have  I 
seen  a  man  trying  to  restrain  nature — he  is  an  angry  bad-tem- 
pered man,  and  ho  is  trying  to  cure  himself  a  bit  and  he  does, 
but  it  comes  out,  and  if  it  does  not  burn  right  out,  and  the 
sparks  do  not  fly  abroad,  yet  it  burns  within  his  bones  till  they 
grow  white  with  the  heat  of  malice  and  there  remains  within 
his  heart  a  residuum  of  the  ashes  of  revenge.    I  have  seen  a 


88  THE   NEW    HEART. 

man  trying  to  make  himself  religious,  and  what  a  monstrosity 
he  makes  himself  in  trying  to  do  it,  for  his  legs  are  not  equal, 
and  he  goes  limping  along  in  the  service  of  God  ;  he  is  a  de- 
formed and  ungainly  creature,  and  all  who  look  at  him  can 
very  soon  discover  the  inconsistencies  of  his  profession.  Oh  ! 
we  say,  it  is  vain  for  such  a  man  to  try  to  appear  white,  as 
well  might  the  Ethiopian  think  he  could  make  his  skin  appear 
white  by  applying  cosmetics  to  it,  or  as  well  might  the  leopard 
think  that  his  spots  might  be  brushed  away  as  for  this  man  to 
imagine  that  he  can  conceal  the  baseness  of  his  nature  by  any 
attempts  at  religion. 

Ah,  I  know  I  tried  a  long  time  to  improve  myself,  but  I 
never  did  make  much  of  it ;  I  found  I  had  a  devil  within  me 
when  I  began,  and  I  had  ten  devils  when  I  left  off.  Instead 
of  becoming  better  I  became  worse ;  I  had  now  got  the  devil 
of  self-righteousness,  of  self-trust,  and  self  conceit,  and  many 
others  had  come  and  taken  up  their  lodging-place.  While  I 
was  busy  sweeping  my  house,  and  garnishing  it,  behold  the 
one  that  I  sought  to  get  rid  of,  and  which  had  only  gone  for 
a  little  season,  returned  and  brought  with  him  seven  other 
spirits  more  wicked,  than  himself,  and  they  entered  in  and 
dwelt  there.  Ah,  you  may  try  and  reform,  dear  friends,  but 
you  will  find  you  can  not  do  it,  and  remember  even  if  you 
could,  still  it  would  not  be  the  work  which  God  requires  ;  he 
will  not  have  reformation,  he  will  have  renovation,  he  will 
have  a  new  heart,  and  not  a  heart  changed  a  little  for  the 
better. 

But,  once  again,  you  will  easily  perceive  we  must  have  a 
new  heart  when  you  consider  what  are  the  employments  and 
the  enjoyments  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  nature  that 
can  feed  on  the  garbage  of  sin,  and  devour  the  carrion  of  ini- 
quity, is  not  the  nature  that  ever  can  sing  the  praises  of  God 
and  rejoice  in  his  holy  name.  The  raven  yonder  has  been 
feeding  on  the  most  loathsome  food,  do  you  expect  that  she 
shall  have  all  the  kindliness  of  the  dove  and  toy  with  the 
maiden  in  her  bower.  Not  unless  you  could  change  the  raven 
into  a  dove ;  for  as  long  as  it  is  a  raven  its  old  propensities 
will  cling  to  it  and  it  will  be  incapable  of  any  thing  above  the 


THE   NEW   HEART.  89 

raven's  nature.  Ye  have  seen  the  vulture  gorge  to  his  very 
full  with  the  very  filthiest  of  flesh,  and  do  you  expect  to  see 
that  vulture  sitting  on  tlie  spray  singing  God's  praises  with  its 
hoarse  screaming  and  croaking  throat  ?  and  do  you  imagine 
you  will  see  it  feeding  like  the  barn-door  fowl  on  the  clean 
grain,  unless  its  character  and  disposition  be  entirely  changed  ? 
Impossible.  Can  you  imagine  that  the  lion  will  he  down  with 
the  ox,  and  eat  straw  like  the  bullock,  so  long  as  it  is  a  lion  ? 
Xo  ;  there  must  be  a  change.  You  may  put  on  it  the  sheep's 
clothing  but  you  can  not  make  it  a  sheep  unless  the  lion-hke 
nature  be  taken  away.  Try  and  improve  the  lion  as  long  as 
ye  like — Van  Amburgh  himself,  if  he  had  improved  his  lions 
for  a  thousand  years,  could  nof  have  made  them  into  sheep. 
And  you  may  try  to  improve  the  raven  or  the  vulture  as  long 
as  you  please,  but  you  can  not  improve  them  into  a  dove — 
there  must  be  a  total  change  of  character,  and  you  ask  me, 
then,  whether  it  can  be  possible  for  a  man  that  has  sung  the 
lascivious  song  of  the  drunkard,  and  has  defiled  his  body  with 
uncleanness,  and  has  cursed  God,  to  sing  the  high  praises  of 
God  in  heaven  as  well  as  he  who  has  long  loved  the  ways  of 
purity  and  communion  with  Christ  ?  I  answer,  no,  never, 
unless  his  nature  be  entirely  changed.  For  if  his  nature 
remain  what  it  is,  improve  it  as  you  may,  you  can  make 
nothing  better  of  it.  So  long  as  his  heart  is  what  it  is,  you 
can  never  bring  it  to  be  capable  of  the  high  delights  of  the 
spiritual  nature  of  the  child  of  God.  Therefore,  beloved, 
there  must  assuredly  be  a  new  nature  put  into  us. 

And  yet  once  again,  and  I  will  have  concluded  upon  this 
point.  God  hates  a  depraved  nature,  and  therefore  it  must 
be  taken  away,  before  we  can  be  accepted  in  him.  God  does 
not  hate  our  sin  so  much  as  he  does  our  sinfulness.  It  is  not 
the  overflowing  of  the  spring,  it  is  the  well  itself.  It  is  not 
the  arrow  that  doth  shoot  from  the  bow  of  om-  depravity  ;  it 
>  the  arm  itself  that  doth  hold  the  bow  of  sin,  and  the  mo- 
tive that  wings  the  arrow  against  God.  The  Lord  is  angry 
not  only  against  our  overt  acts,  but  against  the  nature  which 
dictates  the  acts.  God  is  not  so  short-sighted  as  merely  to 
look  at  the  surface,  be  looks  at  the  source  and  fountaiu.     He 


90  THE  NEW   HEART. 

saith,  "  in  vain  shall  it  be,  though  thou  shouldst  make  the  fruit 
good,  if  the  tree  remain  corrupt.  In  vain  shalt  thou  attempt 
to  sweeten  the  waters,  so  long  as  the  fountain  itself  is  defiled." 
God  is  angry  with  man's  heart ;  he  has  a  hatred  against  man's 
dejoraved  nature,  and  he  will  have  it  taken  away,  he  will  have 
it  totally  cleansed  before  he  will  admit  that  man  into  any 
communion  wdth  himself — and  above  all,  into  the  sweet  com 
munion  of  Paradise.  There  is,  therefore,  a  demand  for  a  new 
nature,  and  that  we  must  have,  or  otherwise  we  can  never  see 
his  face  with  acceptance. 

II.  And  now  it  shall  be  my  joyful  business  to  endeavor,  in 
the  second  place,  to  set  before  you  veiy  briefly  the  nature 

OP   THIS   GREAT   CHANGE   VTHICH   THE   HoLY   SpIRIT   WORKS  IN 

US. 

And,  I  may  begin  by  observing,  that  it  is  a  divine  work 
from  first  to  last.  To  give  a  man  a  new  heart  and  a  new 
spirit  is  God's  work,  and  the  work  of  God  alone.  Arminian- 
ism  falls  to  the  ground  when  we  come  to  this  point.  Nothing 
will  do  here  but  that  old-fashioned  truth  men  call  Calvinism. 
"  Salvation  is  of  t/ie  Lord  alone  /"  this  truth  will  stand  the 
test  of  ages  and  can  never  be  moved,  because  it  is  the  im- 
mutable truth  of  the  living  God.  And  all  the  way  in  salva- 
tion we  have  to  learn  this  truth,  but  especially  when  we  come 
here  to  this  particular  and  indispensable  part  of  salvation,  the 
making  of  a  new  heart  within  us.  That  must  be  God's  work; 
man  may  reform  himself,  but  how  can  man  give  himself  a  new 
heart  ?  I  need,  not  enlarge  upon  the  thought,  it  will  strike 
you  in  a  moment,  that  the  very  nature  of  the  change,  and  the 
terms  in  which  it  is  mentioned  here,  put  it  beyond  all  power 
of  man.  How  can  man  put  into  himself  a  new  heart,  for  the 
heart  being  the  motive  power  of  all  life,  must  exert  itself  before 
any  thing  can  be  done  ?  But  how  could  the  exertions  of  an  old 
heart  bring  forth  a  new  heart  ?  Can  you  imagine  for  a  mo- 
ment a  tree  with  a  rotten  heart,  by  its  own  vital  energy  giv- 
ing to  itself  a  new  young  heart  ?  You  can  not  suppose  such 
a  thing.  If  the  heart  were  originally  right,  and  the  defects 
were  only  in  some  branch  of  the  tree,  you  can  conceive  that 
the  tree,  through  the  vital  power  of  its  sap  within  its  heart, 


THE  NEW   HEART.  91 

might  rectify  the  wrong.  We  have  he»ird  of  some  kind  ot 
insects  that  have  lost  their  limbs,  and  by  their  vital  power 
have  been  able  to  recover  them  again.  But  take  away  the 
seat  of  the  vital  power — the  heart ;  lay  the  disease  there  ;  and 
what  power  is  there  that  can,  by  any  possibility,  rectify  it, 
unless  it  be  a  power  fi'om  without — ^in  fact,  a  power  from 
above  ?  Oh,  beloved,  there  never  was  a  man  yet,  that  did  so 
much  as  the  turn  of  a  hair  towards  making  himself  a  new 
heart.  He  must  lie  passive  there — he  shall  become  active 
afterwards — but  in  the  moment  when  God  puts  a  new  life  into 
the  soul,  the  man  is  passive :  and  if  there  be  aught  of  activity, 
it  is  an  active  resistance  against  it,  until  God,  by  overcoming, 
victorious  grace,  gets  the  mastery  over  man's  will. 

Once,  again  ;  this  is  a  grcuiious  change.  When  God  puts  a 
new  heart  into  man,  it  is  not  because  man  deserves  a  new  heart 
— because  there  was  any  thing  good  in  his  nature,  that  could 
have  prompted  God  to  give  him  a  new  spirit.  The  Lord 
simply  gives  a  man  a  new  heart  because  he  wishes  to  do  it ; 
that  is  his  only  reason.  "  But,"  you  say,  "  suppose  a  man 
cries  for  a  new  heart  ?"  I  answer,  no  man  ever  did  cry  for  a 
new  heart  until  he  had  got  one ;  for  the  cry  for  a  new  heart 
proves  that  there  is  a  new  heart  there  already.  But,  says  one, 
"  Are  we  not  to  seek  for  a  right  spirit  ?"  Yes,  I  know  it  is 
your  duty — but  I  equally  know  it  is  a  duty  you  will  never  ful- 
lill.  You  are  commanded  to  make  to  yourselves  new  hearts, 
but  I  know  you  will  never  attempt  to  do  it,  until  God  first  of 
all  moves  you  thereunto.  As  soon  as  you  begin  to  seek  a  new 
heart,  it  is  presumptive  evidence  that  the  new  heart  is  there 
already,  in  its  germ,  for  there  would  not  be  this  germinating 
in  prayer,  unless  the  seeds  were  there  before  it. 

"  But,"  says  one,  "  suppose  the  man  has  not  a  new  heart, 
and  were  earnestly  to  seek  one,  would  he  have  it  ?"  You 
must  not  make  impossible  suppositions  ;  so  long  as  the  man's 
Iieart  is  depraved  and  vile,  he  never  will  do  such  a  thing.  I 
can  not,  therefore,  tell  you  what  might  happen,  if  he  did  what 
lie  never  will  do.  I  can  not  answer  your  suppositions  ;  if  you 
suppose  yourself  into  a  difficulty  you  must  suppose  yourself 
out  of  it.     But  the  fact  is,  that  no  man  ever  did,  or  ever  will 


92  THE   NEW   HEAET. 

seek  a  new  heart,  or  a  right  spirit,  until,  first  of  all,  the  grace 
of  God  begins  with  him.  If  there  be  a  Christian  here,  who 
began  with  God,  let  him  publish  it  to  the  world  ;  let  us  hear 
for  once  that  there  was  a  man  who  was  beforehand  with  his 
Maker.  But  I  have  never  met  with  such  a  case  ;  all  Chris- 
tian people  declare  that  God  w^as  first  with  them,  and  they 
will  all  sing, 

"  'Twas  the  same  love  that  spread  the  feast, 
That  sweetly  forced  me  in, 
Else  I  had  still  refused  to  taste. 
And  perished  in  my  sua." 

It  is  a  gracious  change,  freely  given  without  any  merit  of 
the  creature,  without  any  desire  or  good-will  coming  before- 
hand. God  doeth  it  of  his  own  pleasure,  not  according  to 
man's  will. 

Once  more  ;  it  is  a  victorious  effort  of  divine  grace.  When 
God  first  begins  the  work  of  changing  the  heart,  he  finds  man 
totally  averse  to  any  such  a  thing.  Man  by  nature  kicks  and 
struggles  against  God,  he  will  not  be  saved.  I  must  confess 
I  never  would  have  been  saved,  if  I  could  have  helped  it.  As 
long  as  -ever  I  could,  I  rebelled  and  revolted,  and  struggled 
against  God.  When  he  would  have  me  pray,  I  would  not 
pray  :  when  he  would  have  me  listen  to  the  sound  of  the  min- 
istry, I  would  not.  And  when  I  heard,  and  the  tear  rolled 
down  my  cheek,  I  wiped  it  away  and  defied  him  to  melt  my 
heart.  When  my  heart  was  a  little  touched,  I  tried  to  divert 
it  with  sinful  pleasures.  And  when  that  would  not  do,  I  tried 
self-righteousness,  and  would  not  then  have  been  saved,  until 
I  was  hemmed  in,  and  then  he  gave  me  the  effectual  blow  of 
grace,  and  there  w^as  no  resisting  that  irresistible  eftbrt  of  his 
grace.  It  conquered  my  depraved  will,  and  made  me  bow 
myself  before  the  scepter  of  his  grace.  And  so  it  is  in  every 
case.  3Ian  revolts  against  his  Maker  and  his  Saviour ;  but  where 
God  determines  to  save,  save  he  will.  God  will  have  the  sin- 
ner, if  he  designs  to  have  him.  God  never  was  thwarted  yet 
in  any  one  of  his  purposes.  Man  does  resist  with  all  his  might, 
but  all  the  might  of  man,  tremendous  though  it  be  for  sin,  is 


THE   NEW   HEART.  93 

not  equal  to  the  majestic  might  of  the  Most  High,  when  he 
rideth  forth  in  the  chariot  of  his  salvation.  He  doth  irresisti- 
bly save  and  victoriously  conquer  man's  heart. 

And  furthermore,  this  change  is  instantaneous.  To  sanctify 
a  man  is  the  work  of  the  whole  life ;  but  to  give  a  man  a  new 
heart  is  the  work  of  an  instant.  In  one  solitary  second,  swifter 
than  the  lightning  flash,  God  can  put  a  new  heart  into  a  man, 
and  make  him  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus.  You  may  be 
sitting  where  you  are  to-day,  an  enemy  to  God,  with  a  wicked 
heart  within,  hard  as  a  stone,  and  dead  and  cold ;  but  if  the 
Lord  wills  it,  the  living  spark  shall  drop  into  your  soul,  and  in 
that  moment  you  will  begin  to  tremble — begin  to  feel ;  you 
will  confess  your  sin,  and  fly  to  Christ  for  mercy.  Other  parts 
of  salvation  are  done  gradually ;  but  regeneration  is  the  in- 
stantaneous work  of  God's  sovereign,  efiectual,  and  irresistible 
grace. 

lU.  Now  we  have  in  this  subject  a  grand  field  of  hope  and 
encouragement  to  the  very  vilest  of  sinners.  My  hearers,  let 
me  very  aflectionately  address  you,  pouring  out  my  heart  be- 
fore you  for  a  moment  or  two.  There  are  some  of  you  here 
present  who  are  seeking  after  mercy;  for  many-a-day  you 
have  been  in  prayer  in  secret,  till  your  very  knees  seemed 
sore  with  the  oftenness  of  your  intercession.  Your  cry  to 
God  has  been,  "  Create  me  in  a  clean  heart,  and  renew  a  right 
spirit  within  me."  Let  me  comfort  you  by  this  reflection,  that 
your  prayer  is  already  heard.  You  have  a  new  heart  and  a 
right  spirit :  perhaps  you  will  not  be  able  to  perceive  the  truth 
of  this  utterance  for  months  to  come,  therefore  continue  in 
prayer  till  God  shall  open  your  eyes,  so  that  you  may  see  that 
the  prayer  is  answered  ;  but  rest  assured  it  is  answered  already. 
If  thou  hatefit  sin,  that  is  not  human  nature  ;  if  thou  longest 
to  be  a  friend  of  God,  that  is  not  human  nature ;  if  thou  de- 
sirest  to  be  saved  by  Christ,  it  is  not  human  nature,  if  thou 
desirest  that  without  any  stipulations  of  thine  own,  if  thou  art 
this  day  willing  that  Christ  should  take  thee  to  be  his  own,  to 
have  and  to  hold,  through  life  and  through  death,  if  thou  art 
willing  to  live  in  his  service,  and  if  needful  to  die  for  his  honor, 
that  is  not  of  human  nature — that  is  the  work  of   divme 


04  THE  NEW.  HEABT. 

grace.  There  is  something  good  in  thee  ah-eady ;  the  Lord 
hath  begun  a  good  wovk  in  thy  heart,  and  he  will  carry  it  on 
even  unto  the  end.  All  these  feelings  of  thine  are  more  than 
thou  ever  couldst  have  attained  of  thyself.  God  has  helped  thee 
up  this  divine  ladder  of  grace,  and  as  sure  as  he  has  brought 
thee  up  so  many  staves  of  it,  he  will  carry  thee  to  the  very 
summit,  till  he  grasps  thee  in  the  arms  of  his  love  in  glory 
everlasting. 

There  are  others  of  you  here,  however,  who  have  not  pro- 
ceeded so  far,  but  you  are  driven  to  despair.  The  devil  has 
told  you  that  you  can  not  be  saved  ;  you  have  been  too  guilty, 
too  vile.  Any  other  people  in  the  world  might  find  mercy, 
but  not  you,  for  you  do  not  deserve  to  be  saved.  Hear  me 
then,  dear  friend.  Have  I  not  tried  to  make  it  as  plain  as  the 
sunbeam  all  through  this  service,  that  God  never  saves  a  man 
for  the  sake  of  what  he  is,  and  that  he  does  not  either  begin 
or  carry  on  the  work  in  us  because  there  is  anything  good  in 
us.  The  greatest  sinner  is  just  as  eligible  for  divine  mercy  as 
the  very  least  of  sinners.  He  who  has  been  a  ringleader  in 
crime,  I  repeat,  is  just  as  eligible  for  God's  sovereign  grace, 
as  he  that  has  been  a  very  paragon  of  morality.  For  God 
wants  nothing  of  us.  It  is  not  as  it  is  with  the  plowman  ;  he 
does  not  desire  to  plow  all  day  upon  the  rocks,  and  send  his 
horses  upon  the  san-d  ;  he  wants  a  fertile  soil  to  begin  with,  but 
God  does  not.  He  will  begin  with  the  rocky  soil,  and  he  will 
pound  that  rocky  heart  of  yours  until  it  turns  into  the  rich 
black  mould  of  penitential  grief,  and  then  he  will  scatter  the 
living  seed  in  that  mould,  till  it  brings  forth  a  hundred  fold. 
But  he  wants  nothing  of  you,  to  begin  with.  He  can  take 
you,  a  thief,  a  drunkard,  a  harlot,  or  whoever  you  may  be ;  he 
then  can  bring  you  on  your  knees,  make  you  cry  for  mercy,  and 
make  you  lead  a  holy  life,  and  keep  you  unto  the  end.  "  Oh  !'* 
says  one,  "  I  wish  he  would  do  that  to  me,  then."  Well,  soul, 
if  that  be  a  true  wish,  he  will.  If  thou  desirest  this  day  that 
thou  shouldst  be  saved,  there  never  was  an  unwilling  God 
where  there  was  a  willing  sinner.  Sinner,  if  thou  wiliest  to 
be  saved,  God  willeth  not  the  death  of  any,  but  rather  that 
they  should  come  to  repentance  ;  and  thou  art  freely  invited 


THE   KEW   HEAHT.  05 

this  morning  to  turn  thine  eye  to  the  cross  of  Christ.  Jesus 
Christ  hns  borne  the  sins  of  men,  and  carried  tlieir  sorrows  ; 
thou  art  bidden  to  look  there,  and  trust  there,  simply  and  im- 
plicitly. Then  thou  art  saved.  That  very  wish,  if  it  be  a  sin- 
cere one,  show^s  that  God  lias  just  now  been  begetting  thee 
again  to  a  lively  hope.  If  that  sincere  wish  shall  endure,  it 
will  be  abundant  evidence  that  the  Lord  hath  brought  thee  to 
himself,  and  that  thou  art  and  shalt  be  his. 

And  now  reflect  every  one  of  you — you  that  are  not  con- 
verted— that  we  are  all  this  morning  in  the  hands  of  God.  We 
deserve  to  be  damned  :  if  God  damneth  us,  there  is  not  a  sin- 
gle word  that  will  be  heard  against  his  doing  it.  We  can  not 
save  ourselves ;  we  lie  entirely  in  his  hands ;  like  a  moth  that 
lies  under  the  finger,  he  can  crush  us  now,  if  he  pleases,  or  he 
can  let  us  go  and  save  us.  What  reflections  ought  to  cross 
our  mind,  if  we  believe  that.  Why,  we  ought  to  cast  our- 
selves on  our  faces,  as  soon  as  we  reach  our  homes,  and  cry, 
"  Great  God,  save  me,  a  sinner !  Save  m6 !  I  renounce  all 
merit  for  I  have  none  ;  I  deserve  to  be  lost ;  Lord,  save  me, 
foi\ Christ's  sake;"  and  as  the  Lord  my  God  liveth,  before 
whom  I  stand,  there  is  not  one  of  you  that  shall  do  this  who 
shall  find  my  God  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  against  you.  Go 
and  try  him,  sinner  ;  go  and  try  him  !  Fall  upon  thy  knees  in 
thy  chamber  this  day,  and  try  my  Master.  See  if  he  will  not 
forgive  you.  You  think  too  harshly  of  him.  He  is  a  great 
deal  kinder  than  you  think  he  is.  You  think  he  is  a  hard  mas- 
ter,  but  he  is  not.  I  thought  he  was  severe  and  angry,  and 
when  I  sought  him,  "  Surely,"  I  said,  "  if  he  accepteth  all  the 
world  beside,  he  will  reject  me."  But  I  know  he  took  me  to 
his  bosom ;  and  when  I  thought  he  would  spurn  me  for  ever, 
he  said,  "  I  have  blotted  out,  as  a  thick  cloud,  thy  transgres- 
sions, and  as  a  cloud  thy  sins,"  and  I  wondered  how  it  was, 
and  I  do  wonder  now.  But  it  shall  be  so  in  your  case.  Only 
try  him,  I  beseech  thee.  The  Lord  help  thee  to  try  him,  and 
to  him  shall  be  the  glory,  and  to  thee  shall  be  happiness  and 
bliss,  for  ever  and  ever. 


SERMON    YI. 

THE    FATHERHOOD    OF    GOD. 

"  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven." — Matt.,  vi.  9. 

I  THINK  there  is  room  for  very  great  doubt,  whether  our 
Saviour  intended  the  prayer  of  which  our  text  forms  a  part, 
to  be  used  in  the  manner  in  which  it  is  commonly  employed 
among  professing  Christians.  It  is  the  custom  of  many  per- 
sons to  repeat  it  as  their  morning  prayer,  and  they  think  that 
when  they  have  repeated  these  sacred  words,  they  have  done 
enough.  I  believe  that  this  prayer  was  never  intended  for 
universal  use.  Jesus  Christ  taught  it  not  to  all  men,  but  to 
his  disciples,  and  it  is  a  prayer  adapted  only  to  those  who  are 
the  possessors  of  grace,  and  are  truly  converted.  In  the  lips 
of  an  ungodly  man  it  is  entirely  out  of  place.  Doth  not  one 
say,  "  Ye  are  of  your  father,  the  devil,  for  his  works  ye  do  ?" 
Why,  then,  should  ye  mock  God  by  saying,  "  Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven."  For  how  can  he  be  your  Father? 
Have  ye  two  Fathers  ?  And  if  he  be  a  Father  where  is  his 
honor  ?  Where  is  his  love  ?  You  neither  honor  nor  love  him 
and  yet  you  presumptuously  and  blasphemously  approach  him, 
and  say,  "  Our  Father,"  when  your  heart  is  attached  still  to 
sin,  and  your  life  is  opposed  to  his  law,  and  you  therefore 
prove  yourself  to  be  an  heir  of  wrath,  and  not  a  child  of  grace. 
Oh !  I  beseech  you,  leave  off  sacrilegiously  employing  these 
sacred  words ;  and  until  you  can  in  sincerity  and  truth  say, 
"Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,"  and  in  your  lives  seek  to 
honor  his  holy  name,  do  not  offer  him  the  language  of  the 
hypocrite,  which  is  an  abomination  to  him. 

I  very  much  question  also,  whether  this  prayer  was  intended 
to  be  used  by  Christ's  own  disciples  as  a  constant  form  of 
prayer.     It  seems  to  me  that  Christ  gave  it  as  a  model,  where* 


TUE    FATnERHOOD    OF    GOD.  97 

by  we  are  to  fashion  all  our  prayers,  and  I  think  we  may  use 
it  to  edification,  and  with  great  sincerity  and  earnestness,  at 
certain  times  and  seasons.  I  have  seen  an  architect  form  the 
model  of  a  building  he  intends  to  erect  of  plaster  or  wood  ; 
but  I  never  had  an  idea  that  it  was  intended  for  me  to  live  in. 
I  have  seen  an  artist  trace  on  apiece  of  brown  paper,  perhaps, 
a  design  which  he  intended  afterward  to  work  out  on  more 
costly  stuff;  but  I  never  imagined  the  design  to  be  the  thing 
itself.  This  prayer  of  Christ  is  a  great  chart,  as  it  were  ;  but 
I  can  not  cross  the  sea  on  a  chart.  It  is  a  map  ;  but  a  man  is 
not  a  traveler  because  he  puts  his  fingers  across  the  map.  And 
so  a  man  may  use  this  form  of  prayer,  and  yet  be  a  total  stran- 
ger to  the  great  design  of  Christ  in  teaching  it  to  his  disciples. 
I  feel  that  I  can  not  use  this  prayer  to  the  omission  of  others. 
•Great  as  it  is,  it  does  not  express  all  I  desire  to  say  to  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  There  are  many  sins  which  I 
must  confess  separately  and  distinctly  ;  and  the  various  other 
petitions  which  this  prayer  contains,  require,  I  feel,  to  be  ex- 
panded, when  I  come  before  God  in  private  ;  and  I  must  pour 
out  my  heart  in  the  language  which  his  Spirit  gives  me  ;  and 
more  than  that,  I  must  trust  in  the  Spirit  to  speak  the  unut- 
terable groanings  of  my  spirit,  when  my  lips  can  not  actually 
express  all  the  emotions  of  my  heart.  Let  none  despise  this 
prayer ; '  it  is  matchless,  and  if  we  must  have  forms  of  prayer, 
let  us  have  this  first,  foremost,  and  chief;  but  let  none  think 
that  Christ  would  tie  his  disciples  to  the  constant  and  only  use 
of  this.  Let  us  rather  draw  near  to  the  throne  of  the  heav- 
enly grace  with  boldness,  as  children  coming  to  a  father,  and 
let  us  tell  our  wants  and  our  sorrows  in  the  language  which 
the  Holy  Spirit  teacheth  us. 

And  now,  coming  to  the  text,  there  are  several  things  wo 
shall  have  to  notice  here.  And  first,  I  shall  dwell  for  a  few 
minutes  upon  the  double  relationship  mentioned.  "  Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven."  There  is  so7ishi2) — "Father;"  there  is 
brotherhood^  for  it  says,  "  Our  Father;"  and  if  he  be  the  com- 
mon father  of  us,  then  we  must  be  brothers ;  for  there  are  two 
relationships,  sonship  and  brotherhood.  In  the  next  place,  I 
shall  utter  a  few  words  upon  the  spirit  which  is  necessary  to 

5 


98  THE    PATHEUHOOD    OP   GOD. 

lielp  US  before  we  are  able  to  utter  this — "  The  spirit  of  adxyp- 
tion^''  whereby  we  can  cry,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven." 
And  then,  thirdly,  I  shall  conclude  with  the  double  argmne^it 
of  the  text^  for  it  is  really  an  argument  upon  which  the  rest  of 
the  prayer  is  based.  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,"  is, 
as  it  were,  a  strong  argument  used  before  supplication  itself  is 
presented. 

I.    First,  THE  DOUBLE  RELATIONSHIP  IMPLIED  IN  THE  TEXT. 

We  take  the  first  one.  Here  is  sonship — "Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven."  How  are  we  to  understand  this,  and  in 
what  sense  are  we  the  sons  and  daughters  of  God  ?  Some 
say  that  the  Fatherhood  of  God  is  universal,  and  that  every 
man,  from  the  fact  of  his  being  created  by  God,  is  necessarily 
God's  son,  and  that  therefore  every  man  has  a  right  to  aj)- 
proach  the  throne  of  God,  and  say,  "  Our  Father  which  ait 
in  heaven."  To  that  I  must  demur.  I  believe  that  in  this 
prayer  we  are  to  come  before  God,  looking  upon  him  not  as 
our  Father  through  creation,  but  as  our  Father  through  adop- 
tion and  the  new  birth.  I  will  very  briefly  state  my  reasons 
for  this. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  see  that  creation  necessarily  im- 
plies fatherhood.  I  believe  God  has  made  many  things  that 
are  not  his  children.  Hath  he  not  made  the  heavens  and  the 
earth,  the  sea  and  the  fulness  thereof?  and  are  they  his  child- 
ren ?  You  say  these  are  not  rational  and  intelligent  beings  ; 
but  he  made  the  angels,  who  stand  in  an  emhiently  high  and 
holy  position,  are  they  his  children?  "Unto  which  of  the 
angels  said  he  at  any  time,  thou  art  my  son?"  I  do  not  find, 
as  a  rule,  that  angels  are  called  the  children  of  God  ;  and  I 
must  demur  to  the  idea  that  mere  creation  brings  God  neces- 
sarily into  the  relationship  of  a  Father.  Doth  not  the  potter 
make  vessels  of  clay  ?  But  is  the  potter  the  fiither  of  the 
vase,  or  of  the  bottle  ?  No,  beloved,  it  needs  something  be- 
yond cieation  to  constitute  the  relationship,  and  those  who 
can  say,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,"  are  something 
more  than  God's  creatures :  they  have  been  adopted  into  his 
family.  He  has  taken  them  out  of  the  old  black  family  in 
which  they  were  born ;  he  has  washed  them,  and  cleansed 


THE   FATHERHOOD     OF   GOD.  09 

them,  and  given  them  a  new  name  and  a  new  spirit,  and  made 
them  "heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs  with  Christ ;"  and  all  this 
of  his  own  free,  sovereign,  unmerited,  distinguishing  grace. 

And  having  adopted  them  to  be  his  children,  he  has,  in  the 
next  place,  regenerated  them  hy  the  Spirit  of  the  limng  God. 
He  has  "  begotten  them  again  unto  a  lively  hope,  by  the  res- 
urrection of  Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead,"  and  no  man  hath  a 
right  to  claim  God  as  his  Father,  unless  he  feeleth  in  his  soul, 
and  believetli,  solemnly,  through  the  faith  of  God's  election, 
that  he  has  been  adopted  into  the  one  family  of  God  which  is 
in  heaven  and  earth,  and  that  he  has  been  regenerated  or  born 
again. 

This  relationship  also  involves  love.  If  God  be  my  Father^ 
he  loves  me.  And  oh,  how  he.  loves* me!  When  God  is  a 
Husband  he  is  the  best  of  husbands.  Widows,  somehow  or 
other,  are  always  well  cared  for.  When  God  is  a  Friend,  he 
is  the  best  of  friends,  and  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother ;  and 
when  he  is  a  Father  he  is  the  best  of  fathers.  O  fathers !  per- 
haps ye  do  not  know  how  much  ye  love  your  children.  When 
they  are  sick  ye  find  it  out,  for  ye  stand  by  their  couches  and 
ye  pity  them,  as  their  little  frames  are  writhing  in  pain.  Well, 
"  like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them 
that  fear  him."  Ye  know  how  ye  love  your  children  too, 
when  they  grieve  you  by  their  sin ;  anger  arises,  and  you  are 
rendy  to  chasten  them,  but  no  sooner  is  the  tear  in  their  eye, 
than  your  hand  is  heavy,  and  you  feel  that  you  had  rather 
smite  yourself  than  smite  them ;  and  every  time  you  smite 
them  you  seem  to  cry,  "  Oh  that  I  should  have  thus  to  afflict 
my  child  for  his  sin !  Oh  that  I  could  sulTer  in  his  stead !" 
And  God,  even  our  Father,  "  doth  not  afflict  willingly."  Is 
not  that  a  sweet  thing  ?  lie  is,  as  it  were,  compelled  to  it ; 
vcn  the  Eternal  arm  is  not  willing  to  do  it ;  it  is  only  his 
L^reat  love  and  deep  wisdom  that  brings  down  the  blow.  But 
If  you  want  to  know  your  love  to  your  children,  you  will  know 
t  most  if  they  die.  David  knew  that  he  loved  his  son  Absalom, 
;nt  he  never  knew  how  much  he  loved  him  till  he  heard  that  ho 
.id  been  slain,  and  that  he  had  been  buried  by  Joab.  "Precious 
a  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints."     Ho  knows 


100  THE  FATHERHOOD    OF    GOD. 

then  how  deep  and  pure  is  the  love  that  death  can  never  sever, 
and  the  terrors  of  eternity  never  can  unbind.  But  parents, 
although  ye  love  your  children  much,  and  ye  know  it,  ye  do 
•not  know,  and  ye  can  not  tell  how  deep  is  the  unfathomable 
abyss  of  the  love  of  God  to  you.  Go  out  at  midnight  and 
consider  the  heavens,  the  work  of  God's  lingers,  the  moon 
and  the  stars  which  he  hath  ordained  ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
say,  "  What  is  man,  that  thou  shouldest  be  mindful  of  him  ?" 
But,  more  than  all,  you  will  wonder,  not  at  your  loving  him, 
but  that  while  he  has  all  these  treasures,  he  should  set  his  heart 
upon  so  insigniticant  a  creature  as  man.  And  the  sonship  that 
God  has  given  us  is  not  a  mere  name  ;  there  is  all  our  Father's 
great  heart  given  to  us  in  the  moment  when  he  claims  us  as  his 
sons.  * 

But  if  this  sonship  involves  the  love  of  God  to  us,  it  in- 
volves, also,  the  duty  of  love  to  God.  Oh  !  heir  of  heaven,  if 
thou  art  God's  child,  wilt  thou  not  love  thy  Father  ?  What 
son  is  there  that  loveth  not  his  father  ?  Is  he  not  less  than 
human  if  he  loveth  not  his  sire  ?  Let  his  name  be  blotted 
from  the  book  of  remembrance  that  loveth  not  the  woman 
that  brought  him  forth,  and  the  father  that  begat  him.  And 
we,  the  chosen  favorites  of  Heaven,  adopted  and  regener- 
ated,  shall  not  we  love  him?  Shall  we  not  say,  "Whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that 
I  desire  in  comparison  with  thee  ?  My  Father,  I  will  give  thee 
my  heart ;  thou  shalt  be  the  guide  of  my  youth ;  thou  dost 
love  me,  and  the  little  heart  that  I  have  shall  be  all  thine  own 
for  ever." 

Furthermore,  if  we  say,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven," 

we  must  recollect  that  our  being  sons  involves  the  duty  of 

obedience  to  God.    When  I  say  "  My  Father,"  it  is  not  for  me 

to  rise  up  and  go  in  rebellion  against  his  wishes ;  if  he  be  a 

father,  let  me  note  his  commands,  and  let  me  reverentially 

'Obey  ;  if  he  hath  said  "  Do  this,"  let  me  do  it,  not  because  I 

r^^i^d  him,  but  because  I  love  him  ;  and  if  he  forbids  me  to  do 

^4^'^Mttg,  let  me  avoid  it.     There  are  some  persons  in  the 

^'^^^^^t^?ho^^kve  not  the  spirit  of  adoption,  and  they  can  never 

^^b¥-liii<btfghi't</'^d^' thing  unless  they  see  some  advantage  to 


THE   FATHERHOOD     OF   GOD.  101 

themselves  in  it ;  but  with  the  child  of  God,  there  is  no  mo- 
tive at  all ;  he  can  boldly  say,  "I  hiivo  ^/^i^^rodone  anglji  thing 
since  I  have  followed  Christ,  becausd  I  lioped  to  get  to  heaven 
by  it,  nor  have  I  ever  avoided  a  w/-ong  thing  'l:3^<2»itS]pjI,yas 
afraid  of  being  damned."  For"  the'  fcbird  bf  God  knows  his 
good  works  do  not  make  him  acceptable  to  God,  for  he  was 
acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ  long  before  he  had  any 
good  works ;  and  the  fear  of  hell  does  not  affect  him,  for  he 
knows  that  he  is  delivered  from  that,  and  shall  never  come 
into  condemnation,  having  passed  from  death  unto  life.  He 
acts  from  pure  love  and  gratitude,  and  imtil  we  come  to  that 
state  of  mind,  I  do  not  think  there  is  such  a  thing  as  virtue  ; 
for  if  a  man  has  done  what  is  called  a  virtuous  action  because 
he  hoped  to  get  to  heaven  or  to  avoid  hell  by  it,  whom  has 
he  served  ?  Has  he  not  seiwed  himself?  and  what  is  that  but 
selfishness  ?  But  the  man  who  has  no  hell  to  fear,  and  no  hell 
to  gain,  because  heaven  is  his  own,  and  hell  he  can  never  en- 
ter, that  man  is  capable  of  virtue ;  for  he  says — 

"Now  for  the  love  I  bear  his  name, 
"WTiat  was  my  gain  I  count  my  loss ; 
I  pour  contempt  on  all  my  shame, 
And  nail  my  glory  to  bis  cross ;" — 

to  his  cross  who  loved,  and  lived,  and  died  for  me  who  loved 
liim  not,  but  who  desires  now  to  love  him  with  all  my  heart, 
and  soul  and  strength. 

And  now  permit  me  to  draw  your  attention  to  one  encour- 
aging thought  that  may  help  to  cheer  the  downcast  and  Satan- 
tempted  child  of  God.  Sons/up  is  a  thing  which  all  the  iii- 
flrmities  of  our  fleshy  and  all  the  si?is  into  which  we  are  hur- 
ried hy  temptation^  can  never  violate  or  weaken.  A  man 
hath  a  child;  that  child  on  a  sudden  is  bereaved  of  its  senses; 
it  becomes  an  idiot.  What  a  grief  that  is  to  a  father,  for  a 
child  to  become  a  lunatic  or  an  idiot,  and  to  exist  only  as  an 
r^nimal,  apparently  without  a  soul !  But  the  iiliot  child  is  a 
liild,  and  the  lunatic  child  is  a  child  still ;  and  if  we  are  the 
fathers  of  such  children,  they  are  ours,  and  all  the  idiocy  and 
all  the  lunacy  that  can  possibly  befall  them  can  never  shake 


102  THE   FATHEKHOOD    OF   GOD. 

the  fact  that  they  are  our  sons.  Oh !  what  a  mercy,  when  we 
transje^'- tJiis  to  G'od'^  oase  and  ours!  How  foolish  we  are 
sometimes— how  worse  than  foolish !  We  may  say  as  David 
didj  Vl^vis-als'a' b(^3st  bfsfore  thee."  God  brings  before  us 
the  truths  of  his  kingdom  ;  we  can  not  see  their  beauty,  we 
can  not  appreciate  them ;  we  seem  to  be  as  if  we  were  totally 
demented,  ignorant,  unstal:)le,  weary,  and  apt  to  slide.  But, 
thanks  be  unto  God,  we  are  his  children  still !  And  if  there 
be  any  thing  worse  that  can  happen  to  a  fither  than  his  child 
becoming  a  lunatic  or  an  idiot,  it  is  when  he  grows  up  to  be 
wicked.  It  is  well  said,  "  Children  are  doubtful  blessings."  I 
remember  to  have  heard  one  say,  and,  as  I  thought,  not  very 
kindly,  to  a  mother  with  an  infant  at  her  breast — "  Woman  ! 
you  may  be  suckling  a  viper  there."  It  stung  the  mother  to 
the  quick,  and  it  was  not  needful  to  have  said  it.  But  how 
often  is  it  the  fact,  that  the  child  that  has  hung  upon  its 
mother's  breast,  when  it  grows  up,  brings  that  mother's  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave  ! 

"  Oh  !  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth 
To  have  a  thankless  child  I" 

ungodly,  vile,  debauched — a  blasphemer  !  But  mark,  breth- 
ren :  if  he  be  a  child  he  can  not  lose  his  childship,  nor  we  our 
fatherhood,  be  he  who  or  what  he  may.  Let  him  be  trans- 
ported beyond  the  seas,  he  is  still  our  son  ;  let  us  deny  him 
the  house,  because  his  conversation  might  lead  others  of  our 
children  into  sin,  yet  our  son  he  is,  and  must  be  ;  and  when 
the  sod  shall  cover  his  head  and  ours,  '^  father  and  son"  shall 
still  be  on  the  tombstone.  The  lelationship  never  can  be 
severed  as  long  as  time  shall  last.  The  jirodigal  was  his 
father's  son  when  he  was  among  the  harlots,  and  when  he 
was  feeding  swine ;  and  God's  children  are  God's  children 
anywhere  and  everywhere,  and  shall  be  even  unto  the  end. 
Nothing  can  sever  that  sacred  tie,  or  divide  us  from  his 
heart. 

There  is  yet  another  thought  that  may  cheer  the  Little- 
faiths  and  Feeble-minds.  The  fatherhood  of  God  is  common 
to  all  his  children.     Ah  !  Little-faith,  you  have  often  looked 


THE  FATHERHOOD    OF   GOD.  103 

up  to  Mr.  Great-heart,  and  you  have  said,  "  Oh  that  I  had  the 
courage  of  Great-heart,  that  I  could  wield  his  sword  and  cut 
old  gi;int  Grim  in  pieces!  Oh  that  I  could  fight  the  dragons, 
and  that  I  could  overcome  the  lions !  But  I  am  stumbhng  at 
eveiy  straw,  and  a  shadow  makes  me  afraid."  List  thee, 
Little-faith.  Great-heart  is  God's  child,  and  you  are  God's 
child  too  ;  and  Great-heart  is  not  a  whit  more  God's  child  than 
you  are.  David  was  the  son  of  God,  but  not  more  the  son  of 
God  than  thou.  Peter  and  Paul,  the  highly-favored  apostles, 
were  of  the  family  of  the  Most  High  ;  and  so  are  you.  You 
have  children  yourselves ;  one  is  a  son  grown  up,  and  out  in 
business,  perhaj^s,  and  you  have  another,  a  little  thing  stiU  in 
arms.  Which  is  the  most  your  child,  the  little  one  or  the  big 
one  ?  "  Both  alike,"  you  say.  This  "  little  one  is  my  child, 
near  my  heart ;  and  the  big  one  is  my  child  too."  And  so  the 
little  Christian  is  as  much  a  child  of  God  as  the  great  one. 

"This  cov'nant  stands  secure, 

Though  earth's  old  pillars  bow  ; 
The  strong,  the  feeble,  and  the  weak, 
Are  one  in  Jesus  now  ;" 

and  they  are  one  in  the  family  of  God,  and  no  one  is  ahead  of 
the  other.  One  may  have  more  grace  than  another,  but  God 
does  not  love  one  more  than  another.  One  may  be  an  older 
child  than  another,  but  he  is  not  more  a  child ;  one  may  do 
more  mighty  works,  and  may  bring  more  glory  to  his  Father, 
but  he  whose  name  is  the  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  as 
much  the  child  of  God  as  lie  who  stands  among  the  king's 
miglity  men.  Let  this  cheer  and  comfort  us,  when  we  draw 
near  to  God  and  say,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven." 

I  will  make  but  one  more  remark  before  I  leave  this  point, 
namely,  this — that  our  hclncj  the  children  of  God  brings  with  it 
innumerable  privileges.  Time  would  fail  me,  if  I  were  to  at- 
tempt to  read  the  long  roll  of  the  Christian's  joyous  privileges. 
I  am  God's  child:  if  so,  he  will  clothe  me;  my  shoes  shall  be 
iron  and  brass  ;  he  will  array  me  with  the  robe  of  my  Saviour's 
righteousness,  for  he  has  said,  "  Bring  forth  the  best  robe  and 
put  it  on  him,"  and  he  lias  also  said  that  he  will  put  a  crown 


104  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

of  pure  gold  upon  my  head,  and  inasmuch  as  I  am  a  king's 
son,  I  shall  have  a  royal  crown.  Am  I  his  child  ?  Then  he 
will  feed  me  ;  my  bread  shall  be  given  me,  and  my  water  shall 
be  sure ;  he  that  feeds  the  ravens  will  never  let  his  children 
starve.  If  a  good  husbandman  feeds  the  barn-door  fowl,  and 
the  sheep,  and  the  bullocks,  certainly  his  children  shall  not 
starve.  Does  my  Father  deck  the  lily,  and  shall  I  go  naked  ? 
Does  he  feed  the  fowls  of  the  heaven  that  sow  not,  neither  do 
they  reap ;  and  shall  I  feel  necessity  ?  God  forbid !  My 
Father  knoweth  what  things  I  have  need  of  before  I  ask  him, 
and  he  will  give  all  I  want.  If  I  be  his  child,  then  I  have  a 
portion  in  his  heart  here,  and  I  shall  have  a  portion  in  his 
house  above ;  for  "  if  children  then  heirs,  heirs  of  God  and 
joint  heirs  with  Christ."  "  If  we  suffer  with  him  we  shall  be 
also  glorified  together."  And  oh !  brethren,  what  a  prospect 
this  opens  up !  The  fact  of  our  being  heirs  of  God  and  joint 
heirs  with  Christ,  proves  that  all  things  are  ours — the  gift  of 
God  the  purchase  of  a  Saviour's  blood. 

"  This  world  is  ours,  and  worlds  to  come  ; 
Earth  is  our  lodge,  and  heaven  our  home." 

Are  there  crowns  ?  They  are  mine  if  I  be  an  heir.  Are  there 
thrones?  Are  there  dominions?  Are  there  harps,  palm, 
branches,  white  robes  ?  Are  there  glories  that  eye  hath  not 
seen  ?  and  is  there  music  that  ear  hath  not  heard  ?  All  these 
are  mine,  if  I  be  a  child  of  God.  "  And  it  doth  not  yet  ap- 
pear what  we  shall  be,  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear, 
we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is."  Talk  of 
princes,  and  kings,  and  potentates !  Then*  inheritance  is  but 
a  pitiful  foot  of  land,  across  which  the  bird's  wing  can  soon 
direct  its  flight ;  but  the  broad  acres  of  the  Christian  can 
not  be  measured  by  eternity.  He  is  rich,  without  a  limit  to 
his  wealth ;  he  is  blessed,  without  a  boundary  to  his  bliss. 
All  this,  and  more  than  I  can  enumerate,  is  involved  in  our 
being  able  to  say,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven." 

The  second  tie  of  the  text  is  brotherhood.  It  does  not  say 
my  Father,  but  our  Father.  Then  it  seems  there  are  a  great 
many  in  the  family.     I  will  be  very  brief  on  this  point. 


THE   FATHERHOOD    OF    GOD.  105 

"  Our  Father."  When  you  pray  that  prayer,  remember  you 
have  a  good  many  brothers  and  sisters  that  do  not  know  their 
Father  yet,  and  you  must  include  them  all ;  for  all  God's  elect 
ones,  though  tliey  be  uncalled  as  yet,  are  still  his  children, 
though  they  know  it  not.  In  one  of  Krummacher's  beautiful 
little  parables  there  is  a  story  like  this :  "  Abraham  sat  one 
day  in  the  grove  at  Mamre,  leaning  his  head  on  his  hand,  and 
{^on-owing.  Then  his  son  Isaac  came  to  him,  and  said,  '  My 
father,  why  moumest  thou  ?  what  aileth  thee  ?'  Abraham 
answered  and  said,  'My  soul  mourneth  for  the  people  of 
Canaan,  that  they  know  not  the  Lord,  but  walk  in  their  own 
ways,  in  darkness  and  foolishness.'  '  Oh,  my  father,'  answered 
the  son,  *  is  it  only  this  ?  Let  not  thy  heart  be  sorrowful ;  for 
are  not  these  their  own  ways?'  Then  the  patriarch  rose  up 
from  his  seat,  and  said,  '  Come  now,  follow  me.'  And  he  led 
the  youth  to  a  hut,  and  said  to  him,  'Behold.'  There  was  a 
child  which  was  imbecile,  and  the  mother  sat  weeping  by  it. 
Abraham  asked  her,  '  Why  weepest  thou  ?'  Then  the  mother 
said,  '  Alas,  this  my  son  eateth  and  drinketh,  and  we  minister 
unto  him ;  but  he  knows  not  the  face  of  his  father,  nor  of  his 
mother.  Thus  his  life  is  lost,  and  this  source  of  joy  is  sealed 
to  him.' "  Is  not  that  a  sweet  little  parable,  to  teach  us  how 
we  ought  to  pray  for  the  many  sheep  that  are  not  yet  of  the 
fold,  but  which  must  be  brought  in  ?  We  ought  to  pray  for 
them,  because  they  do  not  know  their  Father.  Christ  has 
bought  them,  and  they  do  not  know  Christ ;  the  Father  has 
loved  them  from  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  and  yet 
they  know  not  the  face  of  their  Father.  When  thou  sayest 
"  Our  Father,"  think  of  the  many  of  thy  brothers  and  sisters 
that  are  in  the  back  streets  of  London,  that  are  in  the  dens 
and  caves  of  Satan.  Think  of  thy  poor  brother  that  is  intoxi- 
cated with  the  spirit  of  the  devil ;  think  of  him,  led  astray  to 
infamy,  and  lust,  and  perhaps  to  murder,  and  in  thy  prayer 
pray  thou  for  them  who  know  not  the  Lord. 

"  Our  Father."  That,  tlien,  includes  those  of  God's  children 
who  differ  from  us  in  their  doctrine.  Ah  I  there  are  some  that 
differ  from  us  as  wide  as  the  poles  ;  but  yet  they  are  God's 
children.     Come,  Mr.  Bigot,  do  not  kneel  down,  and  say, 

5* 


106  THE   FATHERHOOD    OF    GOD. 

"My  Father,"  but  "  Our  Father."  "If  you  please,  I  can  not 
put  m  Mr.  So-and  So,  for  I  think  ho  is  a  heretic."  Put  him 
in,  sir;  God  has  put  him  in,  and  you  must  put  him  in  too,  and 
say,  "  Our  Father."  Is  it  not  remarkable  how  very  much 
alike  all  God's  people  are  upon  their  knees?  Some  time  ago 
at  a  prayer  meeting  I  called  upon  two  brothers  in  Christ  to 
pray  one  after  another,  the  one  a  Wesleyan  and  the  other  a 
strong  Calvinist,  and  the  Wesleyan  prayed  the  most  Calvin- 
istic  prayer  of  the  two,  I  do  believe — at  least,  I  could  not  tell 
which  was  which.  I  listened  to  see  if  I  could  not  discern 
some  peculiarity  even  in  their  i3hraseology ;  but  there  was 
none.  "  Saints  in  prayer  appear  as  one  ;"  for  when  they  get 
on  their  knees,  they  are  all  compelled  to  say  "  Our  Father," 
and  all  their  language  afterwards  is  of  the  same  sort. 

When  thou  prayest  to  God,  put  iu  the  poor ;  for  is  he  not 
the  Father  of  many  of  the  poor,  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the 
kingdom,  though  they  be  poor  in  this  world.  Come,  my  sister, 
if  thou  bowest  thy  knee  amid  the  rusthng  of  silk  and  satin, 
yet  remember  the  cotton  and  the  print.  My  brother,  is  there 
wealth  in  thy  hand,  yet  I  pray  thee,  remember  thy  brethren 
of  the  horny  hand  and  the  dusty  brow  ;  remember  those  who 
could  not  w^ear  w^hat  thou  wearest,  nor  eat  what  thou  eatest, 
but  are  as  Lazarus  compared  with  thee,  while  thou  art  as 
Dives.  Pray  for  them ;  put  them  all  in  the  same  prayer,  and 
say,  "  Our  Father." 

►  And  pray  for  those  that  are  divided  from  us  by  the  sea — 
those  that  are  in  heathen  lands,  scattered  like  precious  salt  in 
the  midst  of  this  world's  putrefaction.  Pray  for  all  that  name 
the  name  of  Jesus,  and  let  thy  prayer  be  a  great  and  compre- 
hensive one.  "  Our  Father,  which  art  in  heaven."  And  after 
thou  hast  prayed  that,  rise  up  and  act  it.  Say  not  "  Our  Father," 
and  then  look  upon  thy  brethren  with  a  sneer  or  a  frown.  I 
beseech  thee,  live  like  a  brother,  and  act  like  a  brother.  Help 
the  needy ;  cheer  the  sick ;  comfort  the  faint-hearted ;  go 
about  doing  good  ;  minister  unto  the  suffering  people  of  God, 
wherever  thou  findest  them,  and  let  the  world  take  knowledge 
of  thee,  that  thou  art  when  on  thy  feet  what  thou  art  upon 
thy  knees — that  thou  art  a  brother  unto  all  the  brotherhood 


THE   FATHEKIIOOD    OF   GOD.  107 

of  Christ,  a  brother  born  for  adversity,  like  thy  Master  him- 
self. 

II.  Having  thus  expounded  the  double  relationship,  I  have 
left  myself  but  little  time  for  a  very  important  part  of  the 
subject,  namely,  the  spirit  of  adoption. 

I  am  extremely  puzzled  and  bewildered  how  to  exi)lain  to 
the  ungodly  what  is  the  spirit  with  which  we  must  be  filled, 
before  we  can  pray  this  prayer.  If  I  had  a  foundling  here, 
one  who  had  never  seen  either  father  or  mother,  I  think  I 
should  have  a  very  great  difficulty  hi  trying  to  make  him  un- 
derstand what  are  the  feelings  of  a  child  towards  its  father. 
Poor  httle  thing,  he  has  been  under  tutors  and  governors ;  he 
has  learned  to  respect  them  for  their  kindness,  or  to  fear  them 
for  their  austerity  ;  but  there  never  can  be  in  that  child's 
heart  that  love  towards  tutor  or  governor,  however  kind  he 
may  be,  that  there  is  in  the  heart  of  another  child  towards  his 
own  mother  or  father.  There  is  a  nameless  charm  there :  we 
can  not  describe  or  understand  it :  it  is  a  sacred  touch  of  na- 
ture, a  throb  in  the  breast  that  God  has  put  there,  and  that 
can  not  be  taken  away.  The  fatherhood  is  recognized  by  the 
childship  of  the  child.  And  what  is  that  spirit  of  a  child — 
that  sweet  spirit  that  makes  him  recognize  and  love  his  father? 
I  can  not  tell  you  unless  you  are  a  child  yourself,  and  then  you 
will  know.  And  what  is  "  the  spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  we 
cry,  Abba,  Father  ?"  I  can  not  tell  you  ;  but  if  you  have  felt 
it  you  will  know  it.  It  is  a  sweet  compound  of  faith  that 
knows  God  to  be  my  Father,  love  that  loves  him  as  my  Father, 
joy  that  rejoices  in  him  as  my  Fathei",  fear  that  trembles  to 
disobey  him  because  he  is  my  Father,  and  a  confident  affection 
and  trustfulness  that  relies  upon' him,  and  casts  itself  wholly 
upon  him,  because  it  knows  by  the  infallible  witness  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  that  Jehovah,  the  God  of  earth  and  heaven,  is  the 
Father  of  my  iieart.  Oh !  have  you  ever  felt  the  spirit  of 
adoption  ?  There  is  nought  like  it  beneath  the  sky.  Save 
heaven  itself  there  is  nought  more  blissful  than  to  enjoy  that 
spirit  of  adoption.  Oh  !  Avhen  the  wind  of  trouble  is  blowing, 
and  waves  of  adversity  are  rising,  and  the  ship  is  reeling  to 
the  rock,  how  sweet  then  to  say,  "  My  Father,"  and  to  be- 


108  THE   FATHERHOOD    OF   GOD. 

lieve  that  his  strong  hand  is  on  the  helm  ! — when  the  bones 
are  aching,  and  when  the  loins  are  filled  w^ith  pain,  and  when 
the  cup  is  brimming  with  wormwood  and  gall,  to  say  "  My 
Father,"  and  seeing  tliat  Father's  hand  holding  the  cup  to  the 
lip,  to  drink  it  steadily  to  the  very  dregs,  because  we  can  say, 
"My  Father,  not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done."  Well  says 
Martin  Luther,  in  his  Exposition  of  the  Galatians,  "There  is 
more  eloquence  in  that  word,  'Abba,  Father,'  than  in  all  the 
orations  of  Demosthenes  or  Cicero  put  together."  "  My 
Father !"  Oh !  there  is  music  there  ;  there  is  eloquence  there  ; 
there  is  the  very  essence  of  heaven's  own  bliss  in  that  word, 
"My  Father,"  when  applied  to  God,  and  when  said  by  us 
with  an  unfaltering  tongue,  through  the  inspiration  of  the 
Sj)irit  of  the  living  God. 

My  hearers,  have  you  the  spirit  of  adoption  ?  If  not,  ye 
are  miserable  men.  May  God  himself  bring  you  to  know  him  ! 
May  he  teach  you  your  need  of  him  !  May  he  lead  you  to 
the  cross  of  Christ,  and  help  you  to  look  to  your  dying 
Brother !  May  he  bathe  you  in  the  blood  that  flowed  from 
his  open  wounds,  and  then,  accepted  in  the  Beloved,  may  you 
rejoice  that  you  have  the  honor  to  be  one  of  that  sacred 
family. 

III.  And  now,  in  the  last  place,  I  said  that  there  was  in  the 
title,  A  DOUBLE  ARGUMENT.  "  Our  Father."  That  is,  "  Lord, 
hear  what  I  have  got  to  say.  Thou  art  my  Father."  If  I 
come  before  a  judge  I  have  no  right  to  expect  that  he  shall 
hear  me  at  any  particular  season  in  aught  that  I  have  to  say. 
If  I  came  merely  to  crave  for  some  boon  or  benefit  to  myself,  if 
the  law  were  on  my  side,  then  I  could  demand  an  audience  at 
his  hands ;  but  when  I  come  as  a  law^-breaker,  and  only  come 
to  crave  for  mercy,  or  for  favors  I  deserve  not,  I  have  no  right 
to  expect  to  be  heard.  But  a  child,  even  though  he  is  erring, 
always  expects  his  father  will  hear  what  he  has  to  say.  "Lord, 
if  I  call  thee  King,  thou  wilt  say,  '  Thou  art  a  rebellious  sub- 
ject ;  get  thee  gone.'  If  I  call  thee  Judge,  thou  wilt  say,  '  Be 
still,  or  out  of  thine  own  mouth  will  I  condemn  thee.'  If  I 
call  thee  Creator,  thou  wilt  say  unto  me,  '  It  repenteth  me 
that   I  have   made   man   upon   the   earth.'     If  I   cnll   thee 


THE  FATHERHOOD    OF   GOD.  109 

my  Preserverj  thou  wilt  say  unto  me,  'I  have  preserved 
thee,  but  thou  hast  rebelled  against  me.'  But  if  I  call 
thee  Father,  all  my  sinfulness  doth  not  invalidate  my  claim. 
If  thou  be  my  Father,  then  thou  lovest  me ;  if  I  be  thy  child, 
then  thou  wilt  regard  me,  and  poor  though  my  language  be, 
thou  wilt  not  despise  it."  If  a  child  were  called  upon  to  speak 
in  the  presenceof  a  number  of  persons,  how  very  much  alarmed 
he  would  be  lest  he  should  not  use  right  language.  I  may 
sometimes  feel  when  I  have  to  address  a  mighty  auditory,  lest 
I  should  not  select  choice  words,  full  well  knowing  that  if  I 
were  to  preach  as  I  never  shall,  like  the  mightiest  of  orators, 
I  should  always  have  enough  of  carping  critics  to  rail  at  me. 
But  if  I  had  my  father  here,  and  if  you  could  all  stand  in  the 
relationship  of  father  to  me,  I  should  not  be  very  particular 
what  language  I  used.  When  I  talk  to  my  Father  I  am  not 
afraid  he  will  misunderstand  me  ;  if  I  put  my  words  a  little 
out  of  place  he  understands  my  meaning  somehow.  "When 
we  are  little  children  we  "only  prattle  ;  still  our  father  under- 
stands us.  Our  children  talk  a  great  deal  more  like  Dutchmen 
than  Englishmen  when  they  begin  to  talk,  and  strangers  come 
in  and  say,  "Dear  me,  what  is  the  child  talking  about  ?"  But 
we  know  what  it  is,  and  though  in  what  they  say  there  may 
not  be  an  intelligible  sound  that  any  one  could  brint,  and  a 
reader  make  out,  we  know  they  have  got  certain  little  wants, 
and  having  a  way  of  expressing  their  desires,  and  we  can  un- 
derstand them.  So  when  we  come  to  God,  our  prayers  are 
little  broken  things ;  we  can  not  put  them  together ;  but  our 
Father,  he  will  hear  us.  Oh  !  what  a  beginning  is  "  Our 
Father,"  to  a  prayer  full  of  faults,  and  a  foolish  prayer  per- 
haps, a  prayer  in  which  we  are  going  to  ask  what  we  ought 
not  to  ask  for  !  "  Father,  forgive  the  language  !  forgive  the 
matter  I"  As  one  dear  brotlier  said  the  other  day  at  the 
piayer  meeting, — he  could  not  get  on  in  prayer,  and  he  fin- 
ished up  on  a  sudden  by  saying,  *'  Lord,  I  can  not  pray  to- 
night as  I  should  wish  ;  I  can  not  put  the  words  together ; 
Lord,  take  the  meaning,  take  the  meaning,"  and  sat  down. 
That  is  just  what  David  said  once,  "Lo,  all  my  desire  is  be- 
fore thee" — not  ray  words,  but  my  desire,  and  God  could  read 


110  THE   FATHERHOOD    OF   GOD. 

it.  We  should  say,  "  Our  Father,"  because  that  is  a  reason 
why  God  should  hear  what  we  have  to  say. 

But  there  is  another  argument.  "Our  Father."  "Lord 
give  me  what  I  want."  If  I  come  to  a  stranger,  I  have  no 
right  to  expect  that  he  will  give  it  me.  He  may  out  of  his 
charity ;  but  if  I  come  to  a  father,  I  have  a  claim,  a  sacred 
claim.  My  Father,  I  shall  have  no  need  to  use  arguments  to 
move  thy  bosom  ;  I  shall  not  have  to  speak  to  thee  as  the  beg- 
gar w^ho  crieth  in  the  street :  for  because  thou  art  my  Father 
thou  knowest  my  wants,  and  thou  art  willing  to  relieve  me. 
It  is  thy  business  to  relieve  me ;  I  can  come  confidently  to 
thee,  knowing  thou  wilt  give  me  all  I  want.  If  we  ask  our 
Father  for  any  thing  when  we  are  little  children,  we  are  under 
an  obligation  certainly ;  but  it  is  an  obligation  w^e  never  feel. 
If  you  were  hungry  and  your  father  fed  you,  would  you  feel 
an  obligation  like  you  would  if  you  went  into  the  house  of  a 
stranger  ?  You  go  into  a  stranger's  house  trembling,  and  you 
tell  him  you  are  hungry.  Will  he  feed  you  ?  He  says  yes, 
he  will  give  you  somewhat ;  but  if  you  go  to  your  father's 
table,  almost  without  asking,  you  sit  down  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  feast  to  your  full,  and  you  rise  and  go,  and  feel 
you  are  indebted  to  him  ;  but  there  is  not  a  grievous  sense 
of  obligation.  Now,  we  are  all  deeply  under  obligation  to  God, 
but  it  is  a  child's  obligation — an  obligation  which  impels  us  to 
gratitude,  but  w^hich  does  not  constrain  us  to  feel  that  we  have 
been  demeaned  by  it.  Oh  !  if  he  were  not  my  Father,  how 
could  I  expect  that  he  w^ould  relieve  my  wants  ?  But  since 
he  is  my  Father,  he  will,  he  must  hear  my  prayers,  and  answer 
the  voice  of  my  crying,  and  supply  all  my  needs  out  of  the 
riches  of  his  fullness  in  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord. 

Has  your  father  treated  you  badly  lately  ?  I  have  this  word 
to  you,  then  ;  your  father  loves  you  quite  as  much  when  he 
treats  you  roughly  as  when  he  treats  you  kindly.  There  is 
often  more  love  in  an  angry  father's  heart  than  there  is  in 
the  heart  of  a  father  who  is  too  kind.  I  will  suppose  a  case. 
Suppose  there  were  two  fathers,  and  their  two  sons  went  away 
to  some  remote  part  of  the  earth  where  idolatry  is  still  prac- 
ticed.     Suppose  these  two  sons  were  decoyed  and  deluded 


THE  FATHERHOOD    OF    GOD.  Ill 

into  idolatry.  The  news  comes  to  England,  and  the  first 
father  is  very  nngry.  His  son,  his  own  son,  has  forsaken  the 
religion  of  Christ  and  become  an  idolater.  The  second  f  ither 
says,  "  Well,  if  it  will  help  him  in  trade  I  do  n't  care ;  if  he 
gets  on  the  better  by  it,  all  well  and  good."  Now,  which  loves 
most,  the  angry  father,  or  the  father  who  treats  the  matter 
with  complacency  ?  Why,  the  angry  father  is  the  best.  He 
loves  his  son  ;  therefore  he  can  not  give  away  his  son's  soul 
for  gold.  Give  me  a  father  that  is  angry  with  my  sins,  and 
that  seeks  to  bring  me  back,  even  though  it  be  by  chastise- 
ment. Thank  God  you  have  got  a  father  that  can  be  angry, 
but  that  loves  you  as  much  when  he  is  angry  as  when  he  smiles 
upon  you. 

Go  away  with  that  upon  your  mind,  and  rejoice.  But  if  you 
love  not  God  and  fear  him  not,  go  home,  I  beseech  you,  to 
confess  your  sins,  and  to  seek  mercy  through  the  blood  of 
Christ ;  and  may  this  sermon  be  made  useful  in  bringing  you 
into  the  family  of  Christ,  though  you  have  strayed  from  him 
long ;  and  though  his  love  has  followed  you  long  in  vain,  may 
it  now  find  you,  and  bring  you  to  his  house  rejoicing ! 


SERMON  VII. 

EVERYBODY'S    SERMON. 

"  I  have  multiplied  visions,  and  used  similitudes." — ^Hosea,  xii.  10. 

When  the  Lord  would  win  his  people  Israel  from  their  in- 
iquities, he  did  not  leave  a  stone  unturned,  but  gave  them 
precept  upon  precept,  line  upon  line,  here  a  little  and  there  a 
little.  He  taught  them  sometimes  with  a  rod  in  his  hand, 
when  he  smote  them  with  sore  famine  and  pestilence,  and  in- 
vasion ;  at  other  times  he  sought  to  win  them  with  bounties, 
for  he  multiplied  their  corn  and  their  wine  and  their  oil,  and 
he  laid  no  famine  upon  them.  But  all  the  teachings  of  his 
providence  were  unavailing,  and  whilst  his  hand  was  stretched 
out,  still  they  continued  to  rebel  against  the  Most  High.  He 
hewed  them  by  the  prophets.  He  sent  them  first  one,  and 
then  another  ;  the  golden-mouthed  Isaiah  was  followed  by  the 
plaintive  Jeremy ;  while  at  his  heels,  in  quick  succession,  there 
followed  many  far-seeing,  thunder-speaking  seers.  But  though 
prophet  followed  prophet  in  quick  succession,  each  of  them 
uttering  the  burning  words  of  the  Most  High,  yet  they  would 
have  none  of  his  rebukes,  but  they  hardened  their  hearts,  and 
went  on  still  in  their  iniquities.  Among  the  rest  of  God's 
agencies  for  striking  their  attention  and  their  conscience,  was 
the  use  of  similitudes.  The  prophets  were  accustomed  not 
only  to  preach,  but  to  be  themselves  as  signs  and  wonders  to 
the  people.  For  instance,  Isaiah  named  his  child,  Maher- 
shalal-hash-baz,  that  they  might  know  that  the  judgment  of 
the  Lord  was  hastening  upon  them ;  and  this  child  was  or- 
dained to  be  a  sign,  "  for  before  the  child  shall  have  knowledge 
to  cry,  my  father  and  my  mother,  the  riches  of  Damascus  and 
the  spoil  of  Samaria  shall  be  taken  away  before  the  king  of 
Assyria."     On  another  occasion,  the  Lord  said  unto   Isaiah, 


EVERYBODY'S     SERMON.  113 

"  Go  and  loose  the  sackcloth  from  off  thy  loins,  and  put  off 
thy  shoe  from  thy  foot."  And  lie  did  so,  walking  naked  and 
barefoot.  And  the  Lord  said,  "Like  as  my  servant  Isaiah 
hath  walked  naked  and  barefoot  three  years  for  a  sign  and 
wonder  upon  Egypt  and  upon  Ethiopia;  so  shall  the  king  of 
Assyria  lead  away  the  Egyptians  prisoners,  and  the  Ethiopians 
captives  young  and  old,  naked  and  barefoot,  to  the  shame  of 
Egypt."  Hosea,  the  prophet,  himself  had  to  teach  the  people 
by  a  simihtude.  You  v/ill  notice  in  the  first  chapter  a  most 
extraordinary  similitude.  The  Lord  said  to  him,  "  Go,  take 
unto  thee  a  wife  of  whoredoms ;  for  the  land  hath  committed 
great  whoredom,  departing  from  the  Lord  ;"  and  he  did  so, 
and  the  children  begotten  by  this  marriage  were  made  as  signs 
and  wonders  to  the  people.  As  for  his  first  son,  he  was  to  be 
called  Jezreel,  "  for  yet  a  little  while,  and  I  will  avenge  the 
blood  of  Jezreel  upon  the  house  of  Jehu."  As  for  his  daugh- 
ter, she  was  to  be  called  Lo-ruhamah,  "  for  I  will  no  more 
have  mercy  upon  the  house  of  Israel ;  but  I  will  utterly  take 
them  away."  Thus  by  divers  significant  signs,  God  made  the 
people  think.  He  made  his  prophets  do  strange  things,  in 
order  that  the  people  might  talk  about  what  he  had  done,  and 
then  the  meaning  which  God  would  have  them  learn,  should 
come  home  more  powerfully  to  their  consciences,  and  be  the 
better  remembered. 

God  is  every  day  preaching  to  us  by  similitudes.  When 
Christ  was  on  earth  he  preached  in  parables,  and,  though  he  is 
in  heaven  now,  he  is  preaching  in  parables  to-day.  Providence 
is  God's  sermon.  The  things  which  we  see  about  us  are  God's 
thoughts  and  God's  words  to  us ;  and  if  we  were  but  wise  there 
is  not  a  step  that  we  take,  which  we  should  not  find  to  be  full 
of  mighty  instruction.  O  ye  sons  of  men !  God  warns  you 
every  day  by  his  own  word  ;  he  speaks  to  you  by  the  lips  of 
his  servants,  his  ministers  ;  but,  besides  this,  by  similitudes  he 
addresses  you  at  every  time.  lie  leaves  no  stone  unturned  to 
bring  his  wandering  children  to  himself,  to  make  the  lost  sheep 
of  the  house  of  Israel  return  to  the  fold.  In  addressing 
myself  to  you  this  morning,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  how 
every  day,  and  every  season  of  the  year,  in  every  place,  and 


114  EVERYBODY'S    SERMON. 

in  every  calling  which  you  are  made  to  exercise,  God  is  speak- 
ing to  you  by  similitudes. 

I.  Every  day  God  speaks  to  you  by  similitudes.  Let  us 
begin  with  the  early  morning.  This  morning  you  awakened 
and  you  found  yourselves  unclothed,  and  you  began  to  array 
yourselves  in  your  garments.  Did  not  God,  if  you  would  but 
have  heard  him,  speak  to  you  by  a  similitude  ?  Did  he  not 
as  much  as  say  to  thee,  "  Sinner,  what  will  it  be  w^hen  thy 
vain  dreams  shall  have  ended,  if  thou  shouldst  wake  up  in 
eternity  to  find  thyself  naked  ?  Wherewithal  shalt  thou  array 
thyself?  If  in  this  life  thou  dost  cast  away  the  wedding  gar- 
ment, the  spotless  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ,  what  wilt 
thou  do  when  the  trump  of  the  archangel  shall  awaken  thee 
from  thy  clay  cold  couch  in  the  grave,  when  the  heavens  shall 
be  blazing  with  lightnings,  and  the  solid  pillars  of  the  earth 
shall  quake  with  the  terrors  of  God's  thunder  ?  How  wilt 
thou  be  able  to  dress  thyself  then?"  Canst  thou  confront 
thy  Maker  without  a  covering  for  thy  nakedness?  Adam 
dared  not,  and  canst  thou  attempt  it  ?  Will  he  not  affright 
thee  with  his  terrors  ?  Will  he  not  cast  thee  to  the  tor- 
mentors that  thou  mayest  be  burned  with  unquenchable  fire, 
because  thou  didst  forget  the  clothing  of  thy  soul  while  thou 
wast  in  this  place  of  probation  ? 

Well,  you  have  put  on  your  dress,  and  you  come  down  to 
your  families,  and  your  children  gather  round  your  table  for 
the  morning  meal.  If  you  liave  been  wise,  God  has  been 
preaching  to  you  hy  a  similitxide  then :  he  seemed  to  say  to 
thee — "  Sinner,  to  w^hom  should  a  child  go  but  to  his  father  ? 
And  where  should  be  his  resort  when  he  is  hungry  but  to  his 
father's  table  ?"  And  as  you  fed  your  children,  if  you  had 
an  ear  to  hear,  the  Lord  w^as  speaking  to  you  and  saying, 
"  How  willingly  would  I  feed  you  !  How  would  I  give  you 
of  the  bread  of  heaven  and  cause  you  to  eat  angels'  food  ! 
But  thou  hast  spent  thy  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread, 
and  thy  labor  for  that  which  satisfieth  not.  Hearken  dili- 
gently unto  me,  and  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  let  thy  soul 
delight  itself  in  fatness."  Did  he  not  stand  there  as  a  Father, 
and  say,  "Come,  my  child,  come  to  my  table.    The  precious 


eyektbody's  seemok.  115 

blood  of- my  Son  has  been  shed  to  be  thy  drink,  and  he  has  given 
his  body  to  be  thy  bread.  Why  wilt  thou  wander  hungry 
and  thirsty  ?  Come  to  my  table,  O  my  child,  for  I  love  my  chil- 
dren to  be  there  and  to  feast  upon  the  mercies  I  have  provided." 

You  left  your  home  and  you  went  to  your  business.  I 
know  not  in  what  calling  your  time  was  occupied — of  that  we 
will  say  more  before  we  shall  have  gathered  up  the  ends  of 
your  similitudes  this  morning — but  you  spend  your  time  in 
your  work  ;  and  surely,  beloved,  all  the  time  that  your  fingers 
were  occupied,  God  was  speaking  to  your  heart,  if  the  ears  of 
your  soul  had  not  been  closed,  so  that  you  were  heavy  and 
ready  to  slumber,  and  could  not  hear  his  voice.  And  when 
the  sun  was  shining  in  high  heaven,  and  the  hour  of  noon  was 
reached,  mightest  thou  not  have  lifted  up  thine  eye  and  re- 
membered tliat  if  thou  hadst  committed  thy  soul  to  God,  thy 
path  should  have  been  as  the  shining  light  which  shineth  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day  ?  Did  he  not  speak  to  thee 
and  say,  "  I  brought  tiie  sun  from  the  darkness  of  the  east ; 
I  have  guided  him  and  helped  him  to  ascend  the  slippery 
steeps  of  heaven,  and  now  he  standeth  in  his  zenith,  like  a 
giant  that  hath  inm  his  race,  and  hath  attained  his  goal.  And 
even  so  will  I  do  with  thee.  Commit  thy  ways  unto  me  and  I 
will  make  thee  full  of  light,  and  thy  path  shall  be  as  bright- 
ness, and  thy  life  shall  be  as  the  noon-day ;  thy  sun  shall  not 
go  down  by  day,  but  the  days  of  thy  mourning  shall  be  ended, 
for  the  Lord  God  shall  be  thy  light  and  thy  salvation." 

And  the  sun  began  to  set,  and  the  shadows  of  evening 
were  drawing  on,  and  did  not  the  Lord  then  remind  thee  of 
thy  death  ?  Suns  have  their  setting,  and  men  have  their 
graves.  When  the  shadows  of  the  evening  were  stretched  out, 
and  when  the  darkness  began  to  gather,  did  he  not  say  unto 
thee,  "  O,  man,  take  heed  of  thine  eventide,  for  the  light  of 
the  sun  shall  not  endure  for  ever?  There  are  twelve  hours 
wherein  a  man  shall  work,  but  when  they  are  past  there  is  no 
work  nor  device  in  the  night  of  that  grave  whither  we  are  all 
hastening.  Work  while  ye  have  the  light,  for  the  night 
cometh  wherein  no  man  can  work.  Therefore,  whatsoever 
thine  hand  fiudeth  to  do,  do  it  with  all  thy  might."     Look,  I 


116  EVERrBODT'S   SERMON. 

say,  to  the  sun  at  his  setting,  and  observe  the  rainbow  hues  of 
glory  with  which  he  paints  the  sky,  and  mark  how  he  appears 
to  increase  his  orb,  as  he  nears  the  horizon.  O  man  kneel 
down  and  learn  this  prayer — "Lord,  let  my  dying  be  like  the 
setting  of  the  sun  ;  help  me,  if  clouds  and  darkness  are  round 
about  me,  to  light  them  up  with  splendor ;  surround  me,  O  my 
God,  with  a  greater  brightness  at  my  death  than  I  have 
shown  in  all  my  former  life.  If  my  death-bed  shall  be  the 
miserable  j)allet,  and  if  I  expire  in  some  lone  cot,  yet  never- 
theless, grant,  O  Lord,  that  my  poverty  may  be  gilded  with 
the  light  that  thou  shalt  give  me,  that  I  may  exhibit  the 
grandeur  of  a  Christian's  departure  at  my  dying  hour."  God 
speaketh  to  thee,  O  man,  by  similitude,  from  the  rising  to  the 
setting  of  the  sun. 

And  now,  thou  hast  lit  thy  candles  and  thou  sittest  down  ; 
thy  children  are  about  thee,  and  the  Lord  sends  thee  a  little 
preacher  to  preach  thee  a  sermon,  if  thou  wilt  hear.  It  is  a 
little  gnat,  and  it  flieth  round  and  round  about  thy  candle,  and 
delighteth  itself  in  the  light  thereof,  till,  dazzled  and  intoxicated, 
it  begins  to  singe  its  wings  and  burn  itself.  Thou  seekest  to 
put  it  away,  but  it  dashes  into  the  flame,  and  having  burned 
itself  it  can  scarcely  fan  itself  through  the  air  again.  But  as 
soon  as  it  has  recruited  its  strength  again,  mad-like  it  dashes 
to  its  death  and  destruction.  Did  not  the  Lord  say  to  thee, 
"  Sinner,  thou  art  doing  this  also ;  thou  lovest  the  light  of 
sin  ;  oh,  that  thou  wert  %vise  enough  to  tremble  at  the  fire  of 
sin,  for  he  who  delights  in  the  sparks  thereof  must  be  con- 
sumed in  the  burning?"  Did  not  thy  hand  seem  to  be  like 
the  hand  of  the  Almighty,  who  would  put  thee  away  from 
thine  own  destruction,  and  who  rebukes  and  smites  thee  by 
his  providence,  as  much  as  to  say  to  thee,  *'  Poor  silly  man,  be 
not  thine  own  destruction  ?"  And  while  thou  seest  perhaps 
with  a  little  sorrow  the  death  of  the  foolish  insect,  might  not 
that  forewarn  thee  of  thine  awful  doom,  when,  after  having 
been  dazzled  with  the  giddy  round  of  this  world's  joys,  thou 
shalt  at  last  plunge  into  the  eternal  burning  and  lose  thy  soul, 
so  madly,  for  nothing  but  the  enjoyments  of  an  hour  ?  Doth 
not  God  preach  to  thee  thus  ? 


EVEETBODY'S   SERMON.  117 

And  now  it  is  time  for  thee  to  retire  to  thy  rest.  Thy  door 
is  bolted,  and  thou  hast  fast  closed  it.  Did  not  that  remind 
thee  of  that  saying,  "  When  once  the  master  of  the  house  is 
risen  up,  and  hath  shut  to  the  door,  and  ye  begin  to  stand 
M'ithout,  and  to  knock  at  the  door,  saying,  '  Lord,  Lord,  open 
unto  us  ;'  and  he  shall  answer  and  say  unto  you,  'I  know  not 
whence  you  are  ?' "  in  vain  shall  be  your  knocking  then,  when 
the  bars  of  immutable  justice  shall  have  fast  closed  the  gates 
of  mercy  on  mankind  ;  when  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  JVIaster 
shall  have  shut  his  children  within  the  gates  of  Paradise,  and 
shall  have  left  the  thief  and  the  robber  in  the  cold  chilly  dark- 
ness, the  outer  darkness,  where  there  shall  be  weeping  and 
wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  Did  he  not  preach  to  thee  by 
similitude  ?  Even  then,  when  thy  finger  was  on  the  bolt, 
might  not  his  finger  have  been  on  thy  heart  ? 

And  at  night  time  thou  wast  startled.  The  watchman  in 
the  street  awoke  thee  with  the  cry  of  the  hour  of  the  night, 
or  his  tramp  along  the  street.  O  man,  if  thou  hadst  ears  to 
hear,  thou  mightest  have  heard  in  the  steady  tramp  of  the 
policeman  the  cry,  "  Behold,  the  bridegroom  cometh ;  go  ye 
out  to  meet  him."  And  every  sound  at  midnight  that  did 
awaken  thee  from  thy  slumber  and  startle  thee  upon  thy  bed, 
might  seem  to  forewarn  thee  of  that  dread  trump  of  the  arch- 
angel which  shall  herald  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man,  in  the 
day  he  shall  judge  both  the  quick  and  the  dead,  according  to 
my  gospel.  O  that  ye  were  wise,  that  ye  understood  this,  for 
all  the  day  long  from  dewy  morning  till  the  darkness  of  the 
eventide,  and  the  thick  darkness  of  midnight,  God  evermore 
doth  preach  to  man — he  preacheth  to  him  by  similitudes. 

IL  And  now  we  turn  the  cuiTent  of  our  thoughts,  and  ob- 
serve that  ALL  THE  YEAB  rouud  God  doth  preach  to  man  by 
similitudes.  It  was  but  a  little  while  ago  that  we  were  sow- 
ing our  seeds  in  our  garden,  and  scattering  the  corn  over  the 
broad  furrows.  God  had  sent  the  seed  time,  to  remind  us 
that  we  too  are  like  the  ground,  and  that  he  is  scattering  seed 
in  our  hearts  each  day.  And  did  he  not  say  to  us,  "Take 
heed,  O  man,  lest  thou  shouldst  be  like  the  highway  whereon 
the  seed  was  scattered,  but  the  fowls  of  the  air  devoured  it. 


118  EVEETBODY'S   SERMON. 

Take  heed  that  thou  be  not  like  the  ground  that  had  its  base- 
ment on  a  hard  and  arid  rock,  lest  this  seed  should  spring  up 
and  by-and-bye  should  wither  away  when  the  sun  arose,  be- 
cause it  had  not  much  depth  of  earth.  And  be  thou  careful, 
O  son  of  man,  that  thou  art  not  like  the  ground  .where  the 
seed  did  spring  uj),  but  the  thorns  sprang  up  and  choked  it ; 
but  be  thou  like  the  good  ground  whereon  the  seed  did  fall, 
and  it  brought  forth  fruit,  some  twenty,  some  fifty,  and  some 
a  hundred  fold." 

We  thought,  when  we  were  sowing  the  seed,  that  we  ex- 
pected one  day  to  see  it  spring  up  again.  Was  there  not  a 
lesson  for  us  there  ?  Are  not  our  actions  all  of  them  as  seeds  ? 
Are  not  our  little  words  like  grains  of  mustard-seed  ?  Is  not 
our  daily  conversation  like  a  handful  of  the  corn  that  we 
scatter  over  the  soil?  And  ought  we  not  to  remember  that 
our  words  shall  live  again,  that  our  acts  are  as  immortal  as 
ourselves,  that  after  having  laid  a  little  while  in  the  dust  to 
be  matured,  they  shall  certainly  arise  ?  The  black  deeds  of 
sin  shall  bear  a  dismal  harvest  of  damnation  ;  and  the  right 
deeds  which  God's  grace  has  permitted  us  to  do,  shall,  through 
his  mercy  and  not  through  our  merit,  bring  forth  a  bounteous 
harvest  in  the  day  when  they  who  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in 
joy.  Doth  not  seed  time  preach  to  thee,  O  man,  and  say, 
"Take  heed  that  thou  sowest  good  seed  in  thy  field." 

And  when  the  seed  sprang  up,  and  the  season  had  changed, 
did  God  cease  then  to  preach  ?  Ah !  no.  First  the  blade, 
then  the  ear,  and  then  the  full  corn  in  the  ear,  had  each  its 
homily.  And  when  at  last  the  harvest  came,  how  loud  the 
sermon  which  it  preached  to  us  !  It  said  to  us,  "  O  Israel,  I 
have  set  a  harvest  for  thee.  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth  that 
shall  he  also  reap.  He  that  soweth  to  the  flesh  shall  of  the 
flesh  reap  corruption,  and  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit  shall 
of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting."  If  you  have  to  journey  in 
the  country,  you  will,  if  your  heart  is  rightly  attuned,  find  a 
marvelous  mass  of  wisdom  couched  in  a  corn-field.  Why,  I 
could  not  attempt  for  a,  moment  to  open  the  mighty  mines  of 
golden  treasure  which  arc  hidden  there.  Think,  beloved,  of 
the  joy  of  the  harvest.    How  does  it  tell  us  of  the  joy  of  the 


eveetbodt's  sermon.  119 

redeemed,  if  we,  being  saved,  shall  at  last  be  carried  like 
shocks  of  coni  fully  ripe  into  the  garner.  Look  at  the  ear  of 
corn  when  it  is  fully  ripe,  and  see  how  it  dippeth  toward  the 
earth  !  It  held  its  head  erect  before,  bat  in  getting  ripe  how 
humble  does  it  become !  And  how  does  God  speak  to  the 
sinner,  and  tell  him,  that  if  he  would  be  fit  for  the  great  har- 
vest he  must  drop  his  head  and  cry,  "  Lord  have  mercy  upon 
me  a  sinner."  And  when  w^e  see  the  weeds  spring  up  amongst 
wheat,  have  we  not  our  Master's  parable  over  again  of  the 
tares  among  the  wheat ;  and  are  we  not  reminded  of  the  great 
day  of  division,  when  he  shall  say  to  the  reaper,  "  Gather  first 
the  tares  and  bind  them  in  bundles,  to  burn  them  ;  but  gather 
the  wheat  into  my  barn."  O  yellow  field  of  corn,  thou 
preachest  well  to  me,  for  thou  sayest  to  me,  the  minister, 
"  Behold,  the  fields  are  ripe  already  to  the  harvest.  "Work 
thou  thyself,  and  pray  thou  the  Lord  of  the  harvest  to  send 
forth  more  laborers  into  the  harvest."  And  it  preaches  well 
to  thee,  thou  man  of  years,  it  tells  thee  that  the  sickle  of  death 
is  sharp,  and  that  thou  must  soon  fall,  but  it  cheers  and  com- 
forts thee,  for  it  tells  thee  that  the  wheat  shall  be  safely  housed, 
and  it  bids  thee  hope  that  thou  shalt  be  carried  to  thy  Master's 
garner  to  be  his  joy  and  his  delight  for  ever.  Hark,  then,  to 
the  rustling  eloquence  of  the  yellow  harvest. 

In  a  very  little  time,  my,  beloved,  you  will  see  the  birds 
congregated  on  tlie  housetops  in  great  multitudes,  and  after 
they  have  whirled  round  and  round  and  round,  as  if  they 
were  taking  their  last  sight  at  Old  England,  or  rehearsing 
their  supplications  before  they  launched  away,  you  will  see 
them,  with  their  leader  in  advance,  speed  across  the  purple 
sea  to  live  in  sunnier  climes,  while  winter's  cold  hand  shall 
sti-ip  their  native  woods.  And  doth  not  God  seem  to  preach 
to  you,  sinners,  when  these  birds  are  taking  their  flight  ?  Do 
you  not  remember  how  he  himself  puts  it  ?  "  Yea,  the  stork 
in  the  heaven  knoweth  her  appointed  times ;  and  the  turtle, 
and  the  crane,  and  the  swallow,  observe  the  timeof  their  com- 
ing ;  but  my  people  know  not  the  judgment  of  the  Lord." 
Doth  ho  not  tell  us  that  there  is  a  time  of  dark  winter  coming 
upon  this  world ;  a  time  of  trouble,  such  as  there  has  been 


120  everybody's  sermon. 

none  like  it,  neither  shall  be  any  more  ;  a  time,  when  all  the 
joys  of  sin  shall  be  nipped  and  frost-bitten,  and  when  the 
summer  of  man's  estate  shall  be  turned  into  the  dark  winter 
of  his  disappointment  ?  And  does  he  not  say  to  you,  "  Sinner  ! 
fly  away — away — away  to  the  goodly  land,  where  Jesus  dwells ! 
Away  from  self  and  sin  !  Away  from  the  city  of  Destruction  ! 
Away  from  the  whirl  of  pleasures,  and  from  the  tossing  to  and 
fro  of  trouble  !  Haste  thee,  like  a  bird  to  its  rest !  Fly  thou 
across  the  sea  of  repentance  and  faith,  and  build  thy  nest  in  the 
land  of  mercy,  that  when  the  great  day  of  vengeance  shall  pass 
o'er  this  world,  thou  mayest  be  safe  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock." 

I  remember  well,  how  once  God  preached  to  me  by  a  simili- 
tude in  the  depth  of  winter.  The  earth  had  been  black,  and 
there  was  scarcely  a  green  thing  or  a  flower  to  be  seen.  As 
you  looked  across  the  field,  there  was  nothing  but  blackness — 
bare  hedges  and  leafless  trees,  and  black,  black  earth,  where- 
ever  you  looked.  On  a  sudden  God  spake,  and  unlocked  the 
treasures  of  the  snow,  and  white  flakes  descended  until  there 
was  no  blackness  to  be  seen,  and  all  was  one  sheet  of  dazzling 
whiteness.  It  was  at  that  time  that  I  was  seeking  the  Saviour, 
and  it  was  then  I  found  him ;  and  I  remember  well  that  ser- 
mon which  I  saw  before  me  ;  "  Come  now,  and  let  us  reason 
together ;  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet  they  shall  be  as  snow, 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson  they  shall  be  whiter  than 
wool."  Sinner !  thy  heart  is  like  that  black  ground ;  thy  soul 
is  like  that  black  tree  and  hedgerow,  without  leaf  or  blossom  ; 
God's  grace  is  like  the  white  snow — it  shall  fall  upon  thee  till 
thy  doubting  heart  shall  glitter  in  whiteness  of  pardon,  and 
thy  poor  black  soul  shall  be  covered  with  the  spotless  purity  of 
the  Son  of  God.  He  seems  to  say  to  you,  "  Sinner,  you  are 
black,  but  I  am  ready  to  forgive  you ;  I  will  wrap  thy  heart  in 
the  ermine  of  my  Son's  righteousness,  and  with  my  Son's  own 
garments  on,  thou  shalt  be  holy  as  the  Holy  One." 

And  the  wind  of  to-day,  as  it  comes  howling  through  the 
trees — many  of  which  have  been  swept  down — reminds  us  of 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  which  "  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  and 
when  it  pleaseth ;  and  it  tells  us  to  seek  earnestly  after  that 
divine  and  mysterious  influence  which  alone  can  speed  U8  on 


EVERYBODY'S   SERMON.  121 

our  voyage  to  heaven  ;  which  shall  cast  down  the  trees  of  oar 
pride,  and  tear  up  by  the  roots  the  goodly  cedars  of  our  self- 
confidence  ;  which  shall  shake  our  refuges  of  lies  about  our 
ears,  and  make  us  look  to  him  who  is  the  only  covert  from  the 
storm,  the  only  shelter  when  "  the  blast  of  the  terrible  ones  is 
as  a  storm  against  the  wall." 

Ay,  and  when  the  heat  is  coming  down,  and  we  hide  our- 
selves beneath  the  shadow  of  the  tree,  an  angel  stand eth  there, 
and  whispereth,  "  Look  upwards,  siimer,  as  thou  hidest  thyself 
from  the  burning  rays  of  Sol  beneath  the  tree  ;  so  there  is  One 
w^ho  is  hke  the  apple  tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood,  and 
he  bids  thee  come  and  take  shadow  beneath  his  branches,  for 
he  will  screen  thee  from  the  eternal  vengeance  of  God,  and 
give  thee  shelter  when  the  fierce  heat  of  God's  anger  shall  beat 
upon  the  heads  of  wicked  men." 

ni.  And  now  again,  every  place  to  which  you  journey, 
every  animal  that  you  see,  every  spot  you  visit,  has  a  sermon 
for  you.  Go  into  your  farm-yard,  and  your  ox  and  your  ass 
shall  preach  to  you.  "  The  ox  knoweth  his  owner,  and  the  ass 
his  master's  crib  ;  but  Israel  doth  no  know,  my  people  doth  not 
consider."  The  very  dog  at  your  heels  may  rebuke  you.  He 
follows  his  master ;  a  stranger  will  he  not  follow,  for  he  knows 
not  the  voice  of  a  stranger,  but  ye  forsake  your  God  and  turn 
aside  unto  your  crooked  ways.  Look  at  the  chicken  by  the 
side  of  yonder  pond,  and  let  it  rebuke  your  ingratitude.  It 
drinks,  and  every  sip  it  takes  it  lifts  its  head  to  heaven  and 
thanks  the  Giver  of  the  rain  for  the  drink  aflTorded  to  it ;  while 
thou  eatest  and  drinkest,  and  there  is  no  blessing  pronounced 
it  thy  meals,  and  no  thanksgiving  bestowed  upon  thy  Father 
for  his  bounty.  The  very  horse  is  checked  by  the  bridle,  and 
the  whip  is  for  the  ass ;  but  thy  God  hath  bridled  thee  by  his 
commandments,  and  he  hath  chastened  by  his  providence,  yet 
art  thou  more  obstinate  than  the  ass  or  the  mule ;  still  thou 
wilt  not  run  in  his  commandments,  but  thou  turnest  aside,  will- 
fully and  wickedly  following  out  the  perversity  of  thine  own 
heart.  Is  it  not  so  ?  Are  not  these  things  true  of  you  ?  If 
you  are  still  without  God  and  without  Christ,  must  not  these 
things  strike  your  conscience  ?     Would  not  any  one  of  them 

6 


122  EVEEYBODY'S   SEEMON. 

lead  you  to  tremble  before  the  Most  High,  and  beg  of  him 
that  he  would  give  you  a  new  heart  and  a  right  spirit,  and  that 
no  longer  you  might  be  as  the  beasts  of  the  field,  but  might 
be  a  man  full  of  the  divine  Spirit,  living  in  obedience  to  your 
Creator. 

And  in  journeying^  you  have  noticed  how  often  the  road  is 
rough  with  stones,  and  you  have  murmured  because  of  the  way 
over  which  you  have  to  tread  ;  and  have  you  not  thought  that 
those  stones  were  helping  to  make  the  road  better,  and  that 
the  worst  piece  of  road  when  mended  with  hard  stones  would 
in  time  become  smooth  and  fit  to  travel  on  ?  And  did  you 
think  how  often  God  has  mended  you  ;  how  many  stones  of 
affliction  he  has  cast  upon  you;  how  many  wagon  loads  of 
warnings  you  have  had  spread  out  upon  you,  and  you  have 
been  none  the  better,  but  have  only  grown  worse  ;  and  when 
he  comes  to  look  on  you  to  see  whether  your  life  has  become 
smooth,  whether  the  highway  of  your  moral  conduct  has  be- 
come more  like  the  king's  highway  of  righteousness,  how  might 
he  say,  "  Alas !  I  have  repaired  this  road,  but  it  is  none  the 
better ;  let  it  alone  until  it  becomes  a  very  bog  and  quagmire, 
until  he  who  keeps  it  thus  ill  shall  have  perished  in  it  himself." 

And  thou  hast  gone  by  the  sea-side,  and  has  not  the  sea 
talked  to  thee  ?  Inconstant  as  the  sea  art  thou,  but  thou  art 
not  one  half  so  obedient.  God  keeps  the  sea,  the  mountain- 
waved  sea,  in  check  with  a  belt  of  sand  ;  he  spreads  the  sand 
along  the  sea-shore,  and  even  the  sea  observes  the  landmark. 
"Fear  ye  not  me?  saith  the  Lord  ;  will  ye  not  tremble  at  my 
presence,  which  have  placed  the  sand  for  the  bound  of  the  sea 
by  a  perpetual  decree,  that  it  can  not  pass  it ;  and  though  the 
waves  thereof  toss  themselves,  yet  can  they  not  prevail ;  though 
they  roar,  yet  can  they  not  pass  over  it  ?"  It  is  so.  Let  thy 
conscience  prick  thee.  Tlie  sea  obeys  him  from  shore  to  shore, 
and  yet  thou  wilt  not  have  him  to  be  thy  God,  but  thou  sayest, 
"  Who  is  the  Lord  that  I  should  fear  him  r*  Who  is  Jehovah 
that  I  should  acknowledoje  his  sway  ?" 

Hear  the  mountains  and  the  hills^  for  they  have  a  lesson. 
Such  is  God.  He  abideth  for  ever — think  not  that  he  shall 
chanfire. 


everybody's  sermox.  123 

And  now,  sinner,  I  entreat  thee  to  open  thine  eyes  as  thou 
goest  home  to-day,  and  if  nothing:  that  I  have  said  shall  smite 
thee,  perhaps  God  shall  put  into  thy  way  something  that  shall 
give  thee  a  text,  from  which  thou  mayest  preach  to  thyself  a 
sermon  that  never  shall  be  forgotten.  Oh  !  if  I  had  but  time, 
and  thought,  and  words,  I  would  bring  the  things  that  are  in 
heaven  above,  and  in  the  earth  beneath,  and  in  the  waters  un- 
der the  earth,  and  I  would  set  them  all  before  thee,  and  they 
should  every  one  give  their  warning  before  they  had  passed 
from  thine  inspection,  and  I  know  that  their  voice  would  be, 
"  Consider  the  Lord  thy  Creator,  and  fear  and  serve  him,  for 
he  hath  made  thee,  and  thou  hast  not  made  thyself;"  we  obey 
him,  and  we  find  it  is  our  beauty  to  be  obedient,  and  our  glory 
ever  to  move  according  to  his  will ;  and  thou  shalt  find  it  to 
be  the  same.  Obey  him  while  thou  mayest,  lest  haply  when 
this  life  is  over  all  these  things  shall  rise  up  against  thee,  and 
the  stone  in  the  street  shall  clamor  for  thy  condemnation,  and 
the  beam  out  of  the  wall  shall  bear  witness  against  thee,  and  the 
beasts  of  the  field  shall  be  thine  accusers,  and  the  valley  and 
hill  shall  begin  to  curse  thee.  O  man,  the  earth  is  made  for  thy 
warning.  God  would  have  thee  be  saved.  He  hath  set  hand 
posts  eveiywhere  in  nature  and  in  providence,  pointing  thee 
the  way  to  the  city  of  refuge,  and  if  thou  art  but  wise  thou 
neede-t  not  miss  thy  way ;  it  is  but  thy  willful  ignorance  and 
thy  neglect  that  shall  cause  thee  to  run  on  in  the  way  of  error, 
for  God  hath  made  the  way  straight  before  thee  and  given 
thee  every  encouragement  to  run  thereih. 

IV.  And  now,  lest  I  should  weary  you,  I  will  just  notice 
that  eveiy  man  in  his  calling  has  a  sermon  preached  to  him. 

The  farmer  has  a  thousand  sermons ;  I  have  brought  them 
out  already;  let  him  open  wide  his  eyes,  and  he  shall  see 
more.  He  need  not  go  an  inch  without  hearing  the  songs  of 
angels,  and  the  voices  of  spirits  wooing  him  to  righteousness, 
for  all  nature  round  about  him  has  a  tongue  given  to  it,  when 
man  hath  an  ear  to  hear. 

There  are  others,  however,  engaged  in  a  business  which  al- 
lows them  to  see  but  vqv^  little  of  nature,  and  yet  even  there 
God  has  provided  them  with  a  lesson.    There  is  the  baker  who 


124  EVEEYBODY'S   SERMON. 

provides  us  with  our  bread.  He  thrusts  his  fuel  into  the  oven, 
and  he  causeth  it  to  glow  with  heat,  and  he  puts  bread  there- 
in. Well  may  he,  if  he  be  an  ungodly  man,  tremble  as  he 
stands  at  the  oven's  mouth,  for  there  is  a  text  which  he  may 
well  comprehend  as  he  stands  there :  "  For  the  day  cometh 
that  shall  burn  as  an  oven,  and  all  the  proud  and  they  that  do 
wickedly  shall  be  as  stubble  ;  they  shall  be  consumed.  Men 
ingather  them  in  bundles  and  cast  them  into  the  fire,  and  they 
are  burned."  Out  of  the  oven's  mouth  comes  a  hot  and  burn- 
ing warning,  and  the  man's  heart  might  melt  like  wax  within 
him  if  he  would  but  regard  it. 

Then  see  the  butcher.  How  doth  the  beast  speak  to  him  ? 
He  sees  the  lamb  almost  lick  his  knife,  and  the  bullock  goes 
unconsciously  to  the  slaughter.  How  might  he  think  every 
time  that  he  smites  the  unconscious  animal  (who  knows  noth- 
ing of  death),  of  his  own  doom.  Are  we  not,  all  of  us  who 
are  without  Christ,  fattening  for  the  slaughter  ?  Are  we  not 
more  foohsh  than  the  bullock,  for  doth  not  the  wicked  man 
follow  his  executioner,  and  walk  after  his  own  destroyer  into 
the  very  chambers  of  hell  ?  When  we  see  a  drunkard  pursu- 
ing his  drunkenness,  or  an  unchaste  man  running  in  the  way 
of  licentiousness,  is  he, not  as  an  ox  going  to  the  slaughter, 
until  a  dait  smite  him  through  the  liver?  Hath  not  God 
sharpened  his  knife  and  made  ready  his  ax  that  the  fatlings  of 
this  earth  may  be  killed,  when  he  shall  say  to  the  fowls  of  the 
air  and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  "  Behold,  I  have  made  a  feast 
of  vengeance  for  you,  and  ye  shall  feast  upon  the  blood  of  the 
slain,  and  make  yourselves  drunken  with  the  streams  there- 
of ?"  Ay,  butcher,  there  is  a  lecture  for  you  in  your  trade  ; 
and  your  business  may  reproach  you. 

And  ye  whose  craft  is  to  sit  still  all  day,  making  shoes  for 
our  feet,  the  lapstone  in  your  lap  may  reproach  you,  for  your 
heart,  perhaps,  is  as  hard  as  that.  Have  you  not  been  smitten 
as  often  as  your  lapstone,  and  yet  your  heart  has  never  been 
broken  or  melted  ?  And  what  shall  the  Lord  say  to  you  at 
last,  when  your  stony  heart  being  still  within  you,  he  shall  con- 
demn you  and  cast  you  away  because  you  would  have  none  of 
his  rebukes  and  would  not  turn  at  the  voice  of  his  exhortation. 


EVERYBODY'S   SERMON.  125 

Let  the  hreicer  remember  that  as  he  brews  he  must  drink. 
Let  thQ2^otter  tremble  lest  he  be  like  a  vessel  marred  upon  the 
wheel.  Let  the  pHnter  take  heed,  that  his  life  be  set  in  heav- 
enly type,  and  not  in  the  black  letter  of  sin.  Painter^  be- 
ware !  for  paint  will  not  suffice,  we  must  have  unvarnished 
realities. 

Others  of  you  are  engaged  in  business  where  you  are  con- 
tinually using  scales  and  measures.  Might  you  not  often  put 
yourselves  into  those  scales  ?  Might  you  not  fancy  you  saw 
the  great  Judge  standing  by  with  his  gospel  in  one  scale  and 
you  in  the  other,  and  solemnly  looking  down  upon  you,  saying, 
'■^Mene,  nufie,  tekel — thou  art  weighed  in  the  balances  and 
found  wanting  ?"  Some  of  you  use  the  measure,  and  when 
you  ha\^  measured  out,  you  cut  off*  the  portion  that  your  cus- 
tomer requires.  Think  of  your  life  too,  it  is  to  be  of  a  certain 
length,  and  every  year  brings  the  measure  a  little  further,  and 
at  last  there  come  the  scissors  that  shall  clip  off  your  life,  and 
it  is  done.  How  knowest  thou  when  thou  art  come  to  the  last 
inch  ?  What  is  that  disease  thou  hast  about  thee,  but  the  first 
snip  of  the  scissors  ?  What  that  trembling  in  thy  bones,  that 
failing  in  thy  eyesight,  that  fleeing  of  thy  memory,  that  de- 
parture of  thy  youthful  vigor,  but  the  first  rent  ?  How  soon 
shalt  thou  be  rent  in  twain,  the  remnant  of  thy  days  j)ast 
away,  and  thy  years  all  numbered  and  gone,  misspent  and 
wasted  for  ever ! 

But  you  say  you  are  engaged  as  a  servant  and  your  occupa- 
tions are  diverse.  Then  diverse  are  the  lectures  God  preaches 
to  you.  "  A  servant  waits  for  his  wages  and  the  hireling  ful- 
filleth  his  day."  There  is  a  similitude  for  thee,  when  thou  hast 
fulfilled  thy  day  on  earth,  and  shalt  take  thy  wages  at  last. 
Who  then  is  thy  master  ?  Art  thou  serving  Satan  and  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  wilt  thou  take  out  thy  wages  at  last  in 
the  hot  raetal  of  destruction  ?  or  art  thou  serving  the  fair 
prince  Emmanuel,  and  shalt  thy  wages  be  the  golden  crowns 
of  heaven  ?  Oh  I  happy  art  thou  if  thou  servest  a  good  mas- 
ter, for  according  to  thy  master  shall  be  thy  reward  ;  as  is  thy 
labor  such  shall  the  end  be. 

Or  art  thou  one  that  guideth  the  pen,  and  from  hour  to  hour 


126  EVEEYBODT'S   SERMON. 

wearily  thou  writest  ?  Ah  !  man,  know  that  thy  life  is  a  writ- 
ing. When  thy  hand  is  not  on  the  pen,  thou  art  a  writer 
still ;  thou  art  always  writing  upon  the  pages  of  eternity ;  thy 
sins  thou  art  writing  or  else  thy  holy  confidence  in  him  that 
loved  thee.  Happy  shall  it  be  for  thee,  O  writer,  if  thy  name 
is  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life,  and  if  that  black  writing 
of  thine,  in  the  history  of  thy  pilgrimage  below,  shall  have 
been  blotted  out  with  the  red  blood  of  Christ,  and  thou  shalt 
have  written  upon  thee,  the  fair  name  of  Jehovah,  to  stand 
legible  for  ever. 

Or  perhaps  thou  art  a  physician  or  a  chemist ;  thou  pre- 
scribest  or  preparest  medicines  for  man's  body.  God  stands 
there  by  the  side  of  thy  pestle  and  thy  mortar ;  and  by  the 
table  where  thou  writest  thy  prescriptions,  and  he  say^to  thee, 
"  Man,  thou  art  sick ;  I  can  prescribe  for  thee.  The  blood 
and  righteousness  of  Christ,  laid  hold  of  by  faith,  and  applied 
by  the  Spirit,  can  cure  thy  soul.  I  can  compound  a  medicine 
for  thee  that  shall  rid  thee  of  thy  ills  and  bring  thee  to  the 
place  where  the  inhabitants  shall  no  more  say,  '  I  am  sick.' 
Wilt  thou  take  my  medicine  or  wilt  thou  reject  it  ?  Is  it  bit- 
ter to  thee,  and  dost  thou  turn  away  from  it  ?  Come,  drink 
my  child,  drink,  for  thy  life  lieth  here ;  and  how  shalt  thou 
escape  if  thou  neglect  so  great  salvation  ?"  Do  you  cast  iron, 
or  melt  lead,  or  fuse  the  hard  metals  of  the  mines  ?  then  pray 
that  the  Lord  may  melt  thine  heart  and  cast  thee  in  the 
mould  of  the  gospel !  Do  you  make  garments  for  men  ?  oh, 
be  careful  that  you  find  a  garment  for  yourself  for  ever. 

Are  you  busy  in  building  all  day  long,  laying  the  stone  upon 
its  fellow  and  the  mortar  in  its  crevice  ?  Then  remember  thou 
art  building  for  eternity  too.  Oh  that  thou  mayest  thyself  be 
built  upon  a  good  foundation !  Oh  that  thou  mayest  build 
thereon,  not  wood,  hay,  or  stubble,  but  gold,  and  silver,  and 
precious  stones,  and  things  that  will  abide  the  fire !  Take 
care,  man,  lest  thou  shouldest  be  God's  scafibld,  lest  thou 
should  est  be  used  on  earth  to  be  a  scaffolding  for  building  his 
church,  and  when  his  church  is  built  thou  shouldest  be  cast 
down  and  burned  up  with  fire  unquenchable.  Take  heed  that 
thou  art  built  upon  a  rock,  and  not  upon  the  sand,  and  that 


everybody's  seemon.  12  Y 

the  vermilion  cement  of  the  Saviour's  precious  blood  unites 
thee  to  the  foundation  of  the  building,  and  to  every  stone 
thereof. 

Art  thou  SLjeiceler,  and  dost  thou  cut  the  gem  and  polish 
the  diamond  from  day  to  day  ?  Would  to  God  thou  wouldest 
take  warning  from  the  contrast  which  thou  presentest  to  the 
stone  on  which  thou  dost  exercise  thy  craft.  Thou  cuttest  it, 
and  it  glitters  the  more  thou  dost  cut  it ;  but  though  thou  hast 
been  cut  and  ground,  though  thou  hast  had  cholei-a  and  fever, 
and  hast  been  at  death's  door  many  a  day,  thou  art  none  the 
blighter,  but  the  duller,  for  alas !  thou  art  no  diamond.  Thou 
art  but  the  pebble-stone  of  the  brook,  and  in  the  day  when 
God  makes  up  his  jewels  he  shall  not  enclose  thee  in  the  casket 
of  his  treasures  ;  for  thou  art  not  one  of  the  precious  sons  of 
Zion,  comparable  unto  fine  gold.  But  be  thy  situation  what 
it  may,  be  thy  calling  what  it  may,  there  is  a  continual  sermon 
preached  to  thy  conscience.  I  would  that  thou  wouldest  now 
from  this  time  forth  open  both  eye  and  ear,  and  see  and  hear 
the  things  that  God  would  teach  thee. 

And  now,  dropping  the  similitude  while  the  clock  shall  tick 
but  a  few  times  more,  let  us  put  the  matter  thus — Sinner,  thou 
art  as  yet  without  God  and  without  Christ ;  thou  art  liable  to 
death  every  hour.  Thou  canst  not  tell  but  that  thou  mayest 
be  in  the  flames  of  hell  before  the  clock  shall  strike  One  to- 
day. Thou  art  to-day  "condemned  already,"  because  thou 
believest  not  in  the  Son  of  God.  And  Jesus  Christ  saith  to 
thee  this  day,  "Oh,  that  thou  wouldest  consider  thy  latter 
end  !"  He  cries  to  thee  this  morning,  "  How  often  would  I 
have  gathered  thee  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her 
wings,  but  ye  would  not."  I  entreat  you,  consider  your  ways. 
If  it  be  worth  while  to  make  your  bed  in  hell,  do  it.  If  the 
pleasures  of  this  world  are  worth  being  damned  to  all  eternity 
for  enjoying  them,  if  heaven  be  a  cheat  and  hell  a  delusion,  go 
on  with  your  sins.  But,  if  there  be  hell  for  sinners  and  heaven 
for  repenting  ones,  and  if  thou  must  dwell  a  whole  eternity  in 
one  place  or  the  other,  without  similitude,  I  put  a  plain  ques- 
tion to  thee — Art  thou  wise  in  living  as  thou  dost,  witliout 
thought — careless,  and  godless  ?    Wouldst  thou  ask  now  the 


128  EVERYBODY'S   SEEMON. 

way  of  salvation  ?  It  is  simply  this — "  Believe  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  and  thou  shalt  be  saved."  He  died ;  he  rose 
again ;  thou  art  to  believe  him  to  be  thine ;  thou  art  to  believe 
that  he  is  able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost  them  that  come  unto 
God  by  him.  But,  more  than  that,  believing  that  to  be  a  fact, 
thou  art  to  cast  thy  soul  upon  that  fact  and  trust  to  him,  sink 
or  swim.  Spirit  of  God !  help  us  each  to  do  this ;  and  by  sim- 
ilitude, or  by  providence,  or  by  thy  prophets,  bring  us  each  to 
thyself  and  save  us  eternally,  and  unto  thee  shall  be  the  glory. 


I 


SERMON  VIII. 
A  LECTURE  FOR  LITTLE-FAITH. 

"  "We  are  bound  to  thank  God  always  for  you,  brethren,  as  it  is  meet,  be- 
cause that  your  faith  groweth  exceedingly,  and  the  charity  of  every  one  of 
you  all  toward  each  other  aboundeth."— 2  Thessaloniaxs,  l  3. 

"  We  are  bound  to  thank  God  always  for  you,  brethren,  as 
it  is  meet."  Whether  we  shall  praise  God  or  not,  is  not  left 
to  our  opinion.  Although  the  commandment  saith  not,  "Thou 
shalt  praise  the  Lord,"  yet  praise  is  God's  most  righteous  due ; 
and  every  man,  as  a  partaker  of  God's  bounty,  and  especially 
every  Christian,  is  bound  to  praise  God,  as  it  is  meet.  It  is 
true,  we  have  no  authoritative  rubric  for  daily  praise ;  we 
have  no  commandment  left  on  record  specially  prescribing 
certain  hours  of  song  and  thanksgiving;  but  still  the  law 
written  upon  the  heart  teacheth  us  with  divine  authority  that 
it  is  right  to  praise  God  ;  and  this  unwritten  mandate  hath  as 
much  power  and  authority  about  it  as  if  it  had  been  recorded 
on  the  tables  of  stone,  or  handed  to  us  from  the  top  of  thun- 
dering Sinai.  The  Christian's  duty  is  to  praise  God.  Think 
not,  ye  who  are  always  mourning,  that  ye  are  guiltless  in  that 
respect ;  imagine  not  that  ye  can  discharge  your  duty  to  your 
God  without  songs  of  praise.  It  is  your  duty  to  praise  him. 
You  are  bound  by  the  bonds  of  his  love  as  long  as  you  live  to 
bless  his  name.  It  is  meet  and  comely  that  you  should  do  so. 
It  is  not  only  a  pleasurable  exercise,  but  it  is  the  absolute  duty 
of  the  Christian  life  to  praise  God.  This  is  taught  us  in  the  text 
— "We  are  bound  to  thank  God  always  for  you,  brethren,  as 
it  is  meet."  Let  not  your  harps  then  hang  upon  the  willows, 
ye  mourning  children  of  the  Lord.  It  is  your  duty  to  strike 
them  and  bring  forth  their  loudest  music.  It  is  sinful  in  you 
to  cease  from  praising  God  ;  you  are  blessed  in  order  that  you 

6* 


130  A  LECTUEE  FOR   LITTLE-FAITH. 

may  bless  him ;  and  if  you  do  not  praise  God  you  are  not 
bringing  forth  the  fruit  which  he,  as  the  divine  husbandman, 
may  well  expect  at  your  hands.  Go  forth,  then,  ye  sons  of 
God,  and  chant  his  praise.  With  every  morning's  dawn  lift 
up  your  notes  of  thanksgiving ;  and  every  evening  let  the 
setting  sun  be  followed  with  your  song.  Girdle  the  earth 
with  your  praises  ;  surround  it  with  an  atmosphere  of  melody, 
so  shall  God  himself  look  down  from  heaven  and  accept  your 
praises  as  like  in  kind,  though  not  equal  in  degree,  to  the 
praises  of  cherubim  and  seraphim. 

It  seems,  however,  that  the  apostle  Paul  in  this  instance 
exercised  praise  not  for  himself  but  for  others,  for  the  church 
at  Thessalonica.  If  any  of  you  should  in  ignorance  ask  the 
question  why  it  was  that  Paul  should  take  so  deep  an  interest 
in  the  salvation  of  these  saints,  and  in  their  growth  in  faith,  I 
would  remind  you  that  this  is  a  secret  known  only  to  the 
men  who  have  brought  forth  and  nourished  children,  and 
therefore  love  them.  The  apostle  Paul  had  founded  the 
church  at  Thessalonica;  most  of  these  people  were  his  spirit- 
ual offspring ;  by  the  words  of  his  mouth,  attended  by  the 
power  of  the  Spirit,  they  had  been  brought  out  of  darkness 
into  marvelous  light ;  and  they  who  have  had  spiritual  chil- 
dren, who  have  brought  many  sons  unto  God,  can  tell  you  that 
there  is  an  interest  felt  by  a  spiritual  father,  that  is  not  to  be 
equaled  even  by  the  tender  affection  of  a  mother  towards 
her  babe.  "  Ay,"  said  the  apostle,  "  I  have  been  tender  over 
you  as  a  nursing  father ;"  and  in  another  place  he  says  he  had 
"  travailed  in  birth"  for  their  souls.  This  is  a  secret  not 
known  to  the  hireling  minister.  Only  he  whom  God  hath 
himself  ordained  and  thrust  forth  into  the  work,  only  he  who 
has  had  his  tongue  touched  with  a  live  coal  from  off  the  altar, 
can  tell  you  what  it  is  to  agonize  for  men's  souls  before  they 
are  converted,  and  what  it  is  to  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable, 
and  full  of  glory,  when  the  travail  of  their  souls  is  seen  in  the 
salvation  of  God's  elect. 

And  now,  beloved,  having  thus  given  you  two  thoughts 
which  seemed  to  me  to  arise  naturally  from  the  text,  I  shall 
repair  at  once  to  the  object  of  this  moniing's  discourse.     The 


A   LECTURE   FOR  LITTLE-FAITH.  131 

apostle  thanks  God  that  the  faith  of  the  Thessalonians  had 
grown  exceedingly.  Leaving  out  the  rest  of  the  text,  I  shall 
direct  your  attention  this  morning  to  the  subject  of  growth  in 
faith.     Faith  hath  degrees. 

•  In  the  first  place,  I  shall  endeavor  to  notice  the  incon- 
venie7ices  of  little  faith  y  secondly,  the  means  of  'promoting  Its 
groicth  ;  and  thirdly,  a  certain  high  attainment^  unto  which 
faith  will  assuredly  grow^  if  we  diligently  water  and  cultivate 
it, 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  inconveniences  of  little  faith. 
When  faith  first  commences  in  the  soul,  it  is  like  a  grain  of 
mustard-seed,  of  which  the  Saviour  said  it  was  the  least  of  all 
seeds ;  but  as  God  the  Holy  Spirit  is  pleased  to  bedew  it  with 
the  sacred  moisture  of  his  grace,  it  germinates  and  grows  and 
begins  to  spread,  until  at  last  it  becomes  a  great  tree.  To  use 
another  figure  :  when  faith  commences  in  the  soul  it  is  simply 
looking  unto  Jesus,  and  perhaps  even  then  there  are  so  many 
clouds  of  doubts,  and  so  much  dimness  of  the  eye,  that  we 
have  need  for  the  light  of  the  Spirit  to  shine  upon  the  cross 
before  we  are  able  even  so  much  as  to  see  it.  When  faith 
grows  a  little,  it  rises  from  looking  to  Chiist  to  conning  to 
Christ.  He  who  stood  afar  ofi*  and  looked  to  the  cross,  by-and- 
bye  plucks  up  courage,  and  getting  heart  to  liimself,  he  run- 
neth up  to  the  cross ;  or  perhaps  he  doth  not  run,  but  hath  to 
be  drawn  before  he  can  so  much  as  creep  thither,  and  even 
then  it  is  with  a  limping  gait  that  he  draweth  nigh  to  Christ 
the  Saviour.  But  that  done,  faith  goeth  a  httle  further:  it 
layeth  hold  on  Christ ;  it  begins  to  see  him  in  his  excellency, 
and  appropriates  him  in  some  degree,  conceives  him  to  be  a 
real  Christ  and  a  real  Saviour,  and  is  convinced  of  his  suita- 
bility. And  when  it  hath  done  as  much  as  that,  it  goeth  fur- 
ther ;  it  leaneth  on  Christ ;  it  leaneth  on  its  Beloved  ;  casteth 
all  the  burden  of  its  cares,  sorrows,  and  griefs  upon  that 
blessed  shoulder,  and  permitteth  all  its  sins  to  be  swallowed 
up  in  the  great  red  sea  of  the  Saviour's  blood.  And  faith  can 
then  go  further  still ;  for  having  seen  and  ran  towards  him, 
and  laid  hold  upon  him,  and  having  leaned  upon  him,  faith  in 
the  next  place  puts  in  a  humble,  but  a  sure  and  certain  claim 


132  A  LECTUKE  FOE   LITTLE-FAITH. 

to  all  that  Christ  is  and  all  that  he  has  wrought ;  and  then, 
trusting  alone  in  this,  appropriating  all  this  to  itself,  faith 
mounteth  to  full  assurance ;  and  out  of  heaven  there  is  no 
state  more  rapturous  and  blessed.  But,  as  I  have  observed  at 
the  beginning,  faith  is  but  very  small,  and  there  are  some" 
Christians  who  never  get  out  of  little  faith  all  the  while  they 
are  here.  You  notice  in  John  Bunyan's  "  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress," how  many  Little -faith's  he  mentions.  There  is  our 
old  friend  Keady-to-halt,  who  went  all  the  way  to  the  celestial 
city  on  crutches,  but  left  them  when  he  went  into  the  river 
Jordan.  Then  there  is  little  Feeble-mind,  who  carried  his 
feeble  mind  with  him  all  the  way  to  the  banks  of  the  river 
and  then  left  it,  and  ordered  it  to  be  buried  in  a  dunghill  that 
none  might  inherit  it.  Then  there  is  Mr.  Fearing,  too,  who 
used  to  stumble  over  a  straw,  and  was  always  fiightened  if  he 
saw  a  drop  of  rain,  because  he  thought  the  floods  of  heaven 
were  let  loose  uj^on  him.  And  you  remember  Mr.  Despond- 
ency and  Miss  Much-afraid,  who  were  so  long  locked  up  in 
the  dungeon  of  Giant  Despair  that  they  were  almost  starved 
to  death,  and  there  was  little  left  of  them  but  skin  and  bone  ; 
and  poor  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  who  had  been  taken  into  the  cave 
of  Giant  Slay-good  who  was  about  to  eat  him,  when  Great- 
heart  came  to  his  deliverance.  John  Bunyan  was  a  very 
wise  man.  He  has  put  a  great  many  of  those  characters  in 
his  book,  because  there  are  a  great  many  of  them.  He  has 
not  left  us  with  one  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  but  he  has  given  us 
seven  or  eight  graphic  characters,  because  he  himself  in  his 
own  time  had  been  one  of  them,  and  he  had  known  many 
others  who  had  walked  in  the  same  path.  I  doubt  not  I  have 
a  very  large  congregation  this  morning  of  this  very  class  of 
persons.  Now  let  me  notice  the  inconveniences  of  little  faith. 
The  first  inconvenience  of  little  faith  is  that  while  it  is 
always  sure  of  heaven  it  very  seldom  thinks  so.  Little -faith 
is  quite  as  sure  of  heaven  as  Great-faith.  When  Jesus  Christ 
counts  up  his  jewels  at  the  last  day  he  will  take  to  himself 
the  little  pearls  as  well  as  the  great  ones.  If  a  diamond  be 
never  so  small  yet  it  is  precious  because  it  is  a  diamond.  So 
"Vfill  faith,  be  it  never  so  little,  if  it  be  true  faith — Christ  will 


A   LECTURE   FOR   LITTLE-FAITH.  133 

never  lose  even  tlie  smallest  jewel  of  his  crowTi.  Little-flnth 
is  always  sure  of  heaven,  because  the  name  of  Little-faith  is 
in  the  booiv  of  eternal  life.  Little-faith  was  chosen  of  God 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  Little-faith  was  bought 
with  the  blood  of  Christ ;  ay,  and  he  cost  as  much  as  Great- 
faith.  "  For  every  man  a  shekel"  was  the  price  of  redemp- 
tion. Every  man,  whether  great  or  small,  prince  or  peasant, 
had  to  redeem  himself  with  a  shekel.  Christ  has  bought  all, 
both  little  and  great,  with  the  same  most  precious  blood. 
Little-faith  is  always  sure  of  heaven,  for  God  has  begun  the 
good  work  in  him  and  he  will  carry  it  on.  God  loves  him, 
and  he  will  love  him  unto  the  end.  God  has  provided  a  crown 
for  him,  and  he  will  not  allow  the  crown  to  hang  there  with- 
out a  head ;  he  has  erected  for  him  a  mansion  in  heavfen,  and 
he  will  not  allow  the  mansion  to  stand  untenanted  for  ever. 
Little-faith  is  always  safe,  but  he  very  seldom  knows  it.  If 
you  meet  him  he  is  sometimes  afiaid  of  hell ;  very  often  afraid 
that  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him.  lie  will  tell  you  that 
the  country  on  the  other  side  the  flood  can  never  belong  to  a 
worm  so  base  as  lie.  Sometimes  it  is  because  he  feels  himself 
so  unworthy,  another  time  it  is  because  the  things  of  God  are 
too  good  to  be  true,  he  says,  or  he  can  not  think  they  can  be 
true  to  such  a  one  as  he  is.  Sometimes  he  is  afraid  he  is  not 
elect ;  another  time  he  fears  that  he  has  not  been  called  aright, 
that  he  has  not  come  to  Christ  aright.  Another  time  his  fears 
are  that  he  will  not  hold  on  to  the  end,  that  he  shall  not  be  able 
to  persevere;  and  if  you  kill  a  thousand  of  his  fears  he  is  sure 
to  have  another  host  by  to-morrow ;  for  unbelief  is  one  of 
those  things  that  you  can  not  destroy.  "  It  hath,"  saith  Bun- 
yan,  "  as  many  Hves  as  a  cat ;"  you  may  kill  it  over  and  over 
again,  but  still  it  lives.  It  is  one  of  those  ill  weeds  that  sleeps 
in  the  soil  even  after  it  has  been  buined,  and  it  only  needs  a 
little  encouragement  to  grow  again.  Now  Great-faith  is  sure 
of  heaven,  and  he  knows  it.  He  chmbs  Pisgah's  top,  and 
views  the  landscape  o'er;  he  drinks  in  the  mysteries  of  Para- 
dise even  before  he  enters  within  the  pearly  Vates.  lie  sees 
the  streets  that  are  paved  with  gold ;  he  beholds  the  walls  of 
the  city,  the  foundations  whereof  are  of  precious  stones ;  he 


1 


134  A  LECTURE  POE  LITTLE-EAITH. 

hears  the  mystic  music  of  the  glorified,  and  begins  to  smell 
on  earth  the  perfumes  of  heaven.  But  j^oor  Little-faith  can 
scarcely  look  at  the  sun  ;  he  very  seldom  sees  the  light ;  he 
gropes  in  the  valley,  and  while  all  is  safe  he  always  thinks 
himself  unsafe.  That  is  one  of  the  disadvantages  of  Little- 
faith. 

Another  disadvantage  is,  that  Little -faith^  while  always 
having  grace  enough  (for  that  is  Little-faith's  promise — "  My 
grace  shall  be  sufficient  for  thee")  yet  never  thinks  he  has  grace 
enough.  He  will  have  quite  enough  grace  to  carry  him  to 
heaven  ;  and  ^reat-heart  won't  have  any  more.  The  greatest 
saint,  when  he  entered  heaven,  found  that  he  went  in  with  an 
empty  wallet ;  he  had  eaten  his  last  crust  of  bread  when  he 
got  there.  The  manna  ceased  when  the  children  of  Israel  en- 
tered into  Canaan  ;  they  had  none  to  carry  with  them  there; 
they  began  to  eat  the  corn  of  the  land  when  the  manna  of  the 
wilderness  had  ceased.  But  Little-faith  is  always  afraid  that 
he  has  not  grace  enough.  You  see  him  in  trouble.  "  Oh  !" 
says  he,  "I  shall  never  be  able  to  hold  my  head  above  water." 
Blessed  be  God  he  never  can  sink.  If  you  see  him  in  pros- 
perity, he  is  afraid  he  shall  be  intoxicated  with  pride  ;  that  he 
shall  turn  aside  like  Balaam.  If  you  meet  him  attacked  by  an 
enemy,  he  is  scarcely  able  to  say  three  words  for  himself,  and 
he  lets  the  enemy  exact  upon  him.  If  you  find  him  fighting 
the  battle  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  he  holds  his  sword  tight 
enough,  good  man,  but  he  has  not  much  strength  in  his  arm  to 
bring  his  sword  down  with  might.  He  can  do  but  little,  for 
he  is  afraid  that  God's  grace  will  not  be  sufficient  for  him. 
Great-faith,  on  the  other  hand,  can  shake  the  world.  What 
cares  he  about  trouble,  trial,  or  duty  ? 

"  He  that  helped  him  bears  him  through, 
And  makes  him  more  than  conqueror  too." 

He  would  face  an  army  single  handed,  if  God  commanded 
him ;  and  "  with  the  jaw-bone  of  an  ass  he  would  slay  heaps 
upon  heaps,  and  thousands  of  men."  There  is  no  fear  of  his 
lacking  strength.  He  can  do  all  things  or  can  bear  all  sufiTer- 
ings,  for  his  Lord  is  there.     Come  what  may,  his  arm  is  always 


A  LECTURE   FOE   LnTLE-FAITH.  136 

sufficient  for  him ;  he  treads  down  his  enemy,  and  his  cry 
every  day  is  like  the  shout  of  Deborah,  "  O  !  my  soul,  thou 
hast  trodden  down  strength."  Little-faith  treads  down  strength 
too,  but  he  does  not  know  it.  He  kills  his  enemies,  but  he  has 
not  eye-sight  enough  to  see  the  slain.  He  often  hits  so  hard 
that  his  foemen  retreat,  but  he  thinks  they  are  there  still.  He 
conjures  up  a  thousand  phantoms,  and  when  he  has  routed  his 
real  enemies  he  makes  others,  and  trembles  at  the  phantoms 
which  he  has  himself  made.  Little-faith  will  assuredly  find 
that  his  garments  will  not  wax  old,  that  his  shoes  shall  be  iron 
and  brass,  and  that  as  his  day  is  so  shall  his  strength  be  ;  but 
all  the  way  he  will  be  murmuring,  because  he  thinks  his  gar- 
ments will  grow  old,  that  his  feet  will  be  blistered  and  sore ; 
and  he  is  terrified  lest  the  day  should  be  too  heavy  for  him, 
and  that  the  evil  of  the  day  shall  more  than  counterbalance 
his  grace.  Ay,  it  is  an  inconvenient  thing  to  have  little  faith, 
for  little  faith  perverts  every  thing  into  sorrow  and  grief. 

Again,  there  is  a  sad  inconvenience  about  Little-faith, 
namely,  that  if  Little-faith,  he  sorely  tempted  to  sin,  he  is  apt 
to  fall.  Strong-faith  can  well  contest  with  the  enemy.  Satan 
comes  along,  and  says,  "  All  these  things  will  I  give  thee  if 
thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me."  "  Nay,"  we  say,  "  thou 
canst  not  give  us  all  these  things,  for  they  are  ours  already." 
"Nay,"  says  he,  "but  ye  are  poor,  naked  and  miserable." 
"Ay,"  say  we  to  him,  "but  still  these  things  are  ours,  and  it 
is  good  for  us  to  be  poor,  good  for  us  to  be  without  earthly 
goods,  or  else  our  Father  would  give  them  to  us."  "  Oh," 
says  Satan,  "you  deceive  yourselves;  you  have  no  portion  in 
these  things,  but  if  you  will  serve  me,  then  I  Avill  make  you 
rich  and  happy  here."  Strong-faith  says,  "  Serve  thee,  thou 
fiend!  Avaunt!  Dost  thou  offer  me  silver? — behold  God 
giveth  me  gold.  Dost  thou  say  to  me, '  I  will  give  thee  this  if 
thou  disobey  ?' — ^fool  that  thou  art  I  I  have  a  thousand  times 
as  great  wages  for  my  obedience  as  thou  canst  offer  for  my 
disobedience."  But  when  Satan  meets  Little-faith,  he  says  to 
him,  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God  cast  thyself  down  ;"  and 
poor  Little-faith  is  so  afraid  that  he  is  not  a  son  of  God  that  he 
IB  very  apt  to  cast  himself  down  noon  the  supposition.  "  There," 


136  A  LECTURE   FOR  LITTLE-FAITH. 

says  Satan,  "  I  will  give  thee  all  tins  if  thou  wilt  disobey." 
Little-faith  says,  "  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  am  a  child  of 
God,  that  I  have  a  portion  among  them  that  are  sanctified  ;" 
and  he  is  very  apt  to  fall  into  sin  by  reason  of  the  littleness 
of  his  faith.  Yet  at  the  same  time  I  must  observe  that  I  have 
seen  some  Little-faiths  who  are  far  less  apt  to  fall  into  sin  than 
others.  They  have  been  so  cautious  that  they  dared  not  put 
one  foot  before  the  other,  because  they  were  afaid  they  should 
put  it  awry :  they  scarcely  even  dared  to  open  their  lips,  but 
they  prayed,  "  O  Lord,  open  thou  my  lips  ;"  afraid  that  they 
should  let  a  wrong  word  out  if  they  were  to  speak ;  always 
alarmed  lest  they  should  be  falling  into  sin  unconsciously, 
having  a  very  tender  conscience.  Well  I  like  people  of  this 
sort.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  Little-faith  holds  tighter 
by  Christ  than  any  other.  For  a  man  who  is  very  near 
drowning  is  sure  to  clutch  the  plank  all  the  tighter  with  the 
grasp  of  a  drowning  man,  which  tightens  and  becomes  more 
clenched  the  more  his  hope  is  decreased.  Well,  beloved, 
Little-faith  may  be  kept  from  falling,  but  this  is  the  fruit  of 
tender  conscience  and  not  of  little  faith.  Careful  walking  is 
not  the  result  of  little  faith ;  it  may  go  with  it,  and  so  may 
keep  Little-faith  from  perishing,  but  little  faith  is  in  itself  a 
dangerous  thing,  laying  us  open  to  innumerable  temptations, 
and  taking  away  very  much  of  our  strength  to  resist  them. 
"  The  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength  ;"  and  if  that  joy 
ceases  you  become  weak  and  very  apt  to  turn  aside.  Beloved, 
you  who  are  Little-faiths,  I  tell  you  it  is  inconvenient  for  you 
always  to  remain  so  ;  for  you  have  many  nights  and  few  days. 
Your  years  are  like  Norwegian  years — very  long  winters  and 
very  short  summers.  You  have  many  bowlings,  but  very 
little  of  shouting ;  you  are  often  playing  upon  the  pipe  of 
mourning,  but  very  seldom  sounding  the  trump  of  exultation. 
I  would  to  God  you  could  change  your  notes  a  little.  "  Why 
should  the  children  of  a  King  go  mourning  all  their  days  ?" 
It  is  not  the  Lord's  will  that  you  should  be  always  sorrowful. 
"Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always,  and  again  I  say  rejoice."  Oh, 
ye  that  have  been  fasting,  anoint  your  heads  and  wash  your 
faces,  that  ye  appear  not  unto  men  to  fast.     Oh,  ye  that  are 


A   LECTURE   FOR  LITTLE   FAITH.  137 

sad  in  heart,  "Light  is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and  gladness 
for  the  upright  in  heart."  Therefore  rejoice,  for  ye  shall 
praise  him.  Say  unto  yourselves,  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down, 
O  my  soul,  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me?  Hope 
thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  light  of  my 
countenance  and  my  God." 

II.  Having  thus  noticed  the  inconveniences  and  disadvan- 
tages of  little  faith,  let  me  give  you  a  few  rules  with  re- 
gard TO  THE  WAY  OF  STRENGTHENING  IT.      If  yOU  WOUld  haVB 

your  little  faith  grow  into  great  faith,  you  must  feed  it  well. 
Faith  is  a  feeding  grace.  It  does  not  ask  you  to  give  it  the 
things  that  are  seen,  but  it  does  ask  you  to  give  it  the  promise 
of  the  things  that  are  not  seen,  which  are  eternal.  Thou 
tellest  me  thou  hast  little  faith.  I  ask  thee  whether  thou  art 
given  to  the  meditation  of  God's  Word,  whether  thou  hast 
studied  the  promises,  whether  thou  art  wont  to  carry  one  of 
those  sacred  things  about  with  thee  every  day  ?  Dost  thou 
reply,  "  No  ?"  Then,  I  tell  thee,  I  do  not  wonder  at  thine 
unbelief.  He  who  deals  largely  with  the  promises,  will,  under 
grace,  very  soon  find  that  there  is  great  room  for  believing 
them.  Get  a  promise,  beloved,  every  day  and  take  it  with 
you  wherever  you  go  ;  mark  it,  learn  it,  and  inwardly  digest  it. 
Don't  do  as  some  men  do — who  think  it  a  Christian  duty  to 
read  a  chapter  every  morning,  and  they  read  one  as  long  as  your 
arm  without  understanding  it  at  all ;  but  take  out  some  choice 
text,  and  pray  the  Lord  during  the  day  to  break  it  up  to  your 
mind.  Do  as  Luther  says :  "  When  I  get  hold  of  a  promise," 
says  he,  "  I  look  upon  it  as  I  would  a  finiit  tree.  I  think — 
there  hang  the  fruits  above  my  head,  and  if  I  would  get 
them  I  must  shake  the  tree  to  and  fro."  So  I  take  a  promise 
and  meditate  upon  it ;  I  shake  it  to  and  fro,  and  sometimes 
the  mellow  fruit  falls  into  my  hand,  at  other  times  the  fruit  is 
less  ready  to  fall,  but  I  never  leave  off  till  I  get  it.  I  shake, 
shake  all  the  day  long ;  I  turn  the  text  over  and  over  again, 
and  at  last  the  pomegranate  droppeth  down,  and  my  soul  is 
comforted  with  apples,  for  it  was  sick  of  love.  Do  that, 
Christian.  Deal  much  with  the  promises ;  have  much  com- 
merce with  these  powders  of  the  merchant ;  there  is  a  rich 


138  A    LECTURE   FOR   LITTLE  FAITH. 

perfume  in  every  promise  of  God ;  take  it,  it  is  an  alabaster 
box,  break  it  by  meditation,  and  the  sweet  scent  of  faith  shall 
be  shed  abroad  in  your  house. 

Again,  prove  the  promise^  and  in  that  way  you  will  get  your 
faith  strengthened.  When  you  are  at  any  time  placed  in  dis- 
tress, take  a  promise  and  see  whether  it  is  true.  Suppose  you 
are  very  near  lacking  bread,  take  this  promise,  "  Thy  bread 
shall  be  given  thee,  thy  water  shall  be  sure."  Rise  up  in  the 
morning  when  nothing  is  in  the  cupboard,  and  say,  "  I  will 
see  whether  God  will  keep  this  promise ;"  and  if  he  does,  do 
not  forget  it ;  set  it  down  in  your  book  ;  make  a  mark  in  your 
Bible  against  it.  Do  as  the  old  woman  did,  who  put  T  and  P 
against  the  promise,  and  told  her  minister  that  it  meant  "tried 
and  proved ;"  so  that  when  she  was  again  in  distress,  she 
could  not  help  believing.  Have  you  been  exercised  by  Satan  ? 
There  is  a  promise  that  says,  "  Resist  the  devil  and  he  will 
flee  from  you."  Take  that  and  prove  it,  and  when  you  have 
proved  it,  make  a  mark  against  it,  and  say,  "This  I  know  is 
true,  for  I  have  proved  it  to  be  so."  There  is  nothing  in  the 
world  that  can  confirn;  faith  like  proof.  "  What  I  want,"  said 
one,  "  is  facts."  And  so  it  is  with  the  Christian.  What  he 
wants  is  a  fact  to  make  him  believe.  The  older  you  grow  the 
stronger  your  faith  ought  to  become,  for  you  have  so  many 
more  facts  with  which  to  buttress  your  faith,  and  compel  you 
to  believe  in  God.  Only  think  of  a  man  who  has  come  to  be 
seventy  years  of  age,  what  a  pile  of  evidence  could  he  accu- 
mulate if  he  kept  a  note  of  all  God's  providential  goodness  and 
all  his  loving  kindness.  You  do  not  wonder  when  you  hear  a 
man,  the  hairs  of  whose  head  are  white  with  the  sunlight  of 
heaven,  get  up  and  say,  "  These  fifty  years  have  I  served  God, 
and  he  has  never  forsaken  me ;  I  can  bear  willing  testimony 
to  his  faithfulness  ;  not  one  good  thing  hath  Failed  of  all  that 
the  Lord  had  promised ;  all  hath  come  to  pass."  Now  we, 
who  are  young  beginners,  must  not  expect  that  our  faith  will 
be  so  strong  as  it  will  be  in  years  to  come.  Every  instance  of 
God's  love  should  make  us  believe  him  more;  and  as  each 
promise  passes  by,  and  we  can  sec  the  fulfillment  of  it  at  the 
heels  thereof,  we  must  be  compelled  and  constrained  to  say, 


A  LECTUKE  FOR  LrTTLE-FAITH.  139 

that  God  has  kept  so  many  of  these  promises  and  will  keep 
them  unto  the  end.  But  the  worst  of  it  is  that  we  forget 
them  all,  and  so  we  begin  to  have  gray  hairs  sprinkled  on  our 
beads,  and  we  have  no  more  farth  than  when  we  began,  be- 
cause we  have  forgotten  God's  repeated  answers,  and  though 
he  has  fulfilled  the  promise  we  have  suffered  it  to  lie  buried  in 
forgetfulness. 

Another  plan  I  would  recommend  for  the  strengthening  ol 
your  faith,  though  not  so  excellent  as  the  last,  is  to  associate 
yourselves  icith  godly  and  much-tried  men.  I  tis  astonishing 
how  young  believers  will  get  their  faith  refreshed  by  talking 
with  old  and  advanced  Christians.  Perhaps  you  are  in  great 
doubt  and  distress ;  you  run  off  to  an  old  brother,  and  you 
say,  *'  Oh  my  dear  friend,  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  a  child  of  God 
at  all,  I  am  in  such  deep  distress ;  I  have  had  blasphemous 
thoughts  cast  into  my  heart ;  if  I  were  a  child  of  God  I  should 
never  feel  like  that."  The  old  man  smiles,  and  says,  "  Ah ! 
you  have  not  gone  very  far  on  the  road  to  heaven,  or  else  you 
would  know  better.  Why  I  am  the  subject  of  these  thoughts 
very  often.  Old  as  I  am,  and  though  I  hope  I  have  enjoyed 
the  full  assurance  for  a  long  time,  yet  there  are  seasons  when 
if  I  could  have  heaven  for  a  grain  of  faith,  I  could  not  think 
heaven  was  mine,  for  I  could  not  find  so  much  as  a  grain  in  me, 
though  it  is  there."  And  he  will  tell  you  what  dangers  he  has 
passed,  and  of  the  sovereign  love  that  kept  him,  of  the  temp- 
tations that  threatened  to  ensnare  him,  and  of  the  wisdom 
that  guided  his  feet;  and  he  will  tell  you  of  his  own  weakness 
and  God's  omnipotence  ;  of  his  own  emptiness,  and  God's  full- 
ness ;  of  his  own  changeableness,  and  God's  immutability ; 
and  if  after  talking  with  such  a  man  you  do  n't  believe,  surely 
you  are  sinful  indeed  ;  for  "  out  of  the  mouth  of  two  witnesses 
the  whole  shall  be  established,"  but  when  there  are  many  such 
who  can  bear  testimony  to  God,  it  would  bo  foul  sin  indeed  it 
we  were  to  doubt  him. 

Another  way  whereby  you  may  obtain  increase  of  faith  is  to 
labor  to  get  as  m^xch  as  possible  free  from  self  I  have  striven 
with  all  my  might  to  attain  the  position  of  perfect  indifference 
of  all  men.    I  have  found  at  times,  if  I  have  been  much  praised 


140  A   LECTUEE   FOE   LITTLE-FAITH. 

in  company,  and  if  my  heart  has  given  way  a  little,  and  I  have 
taken  notice  of  it,  and  felt  pleased,  that  the  very  next  time  I 
was  censured  and  abused  I  felt  the  censure  and  abuse  very 
keenly,  for  the  very  fact  that  I  took  the  praise  rendered  me 
liable  to  lay  hold  upon  the  censure.  So  that  I  have  always 
tried,  especially  of  late,  to  take  no  more  notice  of  man's  praise 
than  of  his  censure,  but  to  fix  my  heart  simply  upon  this — I 
know  that  I  have  a  right  motive  in  what  I  attempt  to  do :  1 
am  conscious  that  I  endeavor  to  serve  God  with  a  single  eye 
to  his  glory,  and  therefore  it  is  not  for  me  to  take  praise  from 
man,  nor  censure,  but  to  stand  independently  upon  the  one 
rock  of  right  doing.  Now  the  same  thing  will  apply  to  you. 
Perhaps  you  find  yourself  full  of  virtue  and  grace  one  day, 
and  the  devil  flatters  you  :  "  Ah  !  you  are  a  bright  Christian  ; 
you  might  join  the  church  now,  you  would  be  quite  an  honor 
to  it ;  see  how  well  you  are  prospering."  And  unconsciously 
to  yourself  you  believe  the  sound  of  that  syren  music,  and 
you  half  believe  that  really  you  are  growing  rich  in  grace. 
Well,  the  next  day  you  find  yourself  very  low  indeed  in  godly 
matters.  Perhaps  you  fall  into  some  sin,  and  now  the  devil 
says,  "  Ah  !  now  you  are  no  child  of  God  ;  look  at  your  sins." 
Beloved,  the  only  way  in  which  you  can  maintain  your  faith 
is  to  live  above  the  praise  of  self  and  the  censure  of  self;  to 
live  simply  upon  the  blood  and  merits  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  He  who  can  say  in  the  midst  of  all  his  virtues, 
"  These  are  but  dross  and  dung  ;  my  hope  is  fixed  on  nothing 
less  than  Jesus  Christ's  finished  sacrifice" — such  a  man,  when 
sins  prevail,  will  find  his  faith  remain  constant,  for  he  will  say, 
"  I  once  was  full  of  virtue  and  then  I  did  not  trust  in  myself^ 
and  now  I  have  none  still  do  I  trust  in  my  Saviour,  for  change 
as  I  may,  he  changeth  not.  If  I  had  to  depend  on  myself  in 
the  least  degree  then  it  would  be  up  and  down,  up  and  down  ; 
but  since  I  rely  on  what  Christ  has  done,  since  he  is  the  un- 
buttressed  pillar  of  my  hope,  then  come  what  may  my  soul 
doth  rest  secure,  confident  iu  faith.  Faith  will  never  be  weak 
if  self  be  weak,  but  when  self  is  strong,  faith  can  not  be  strong  ; 
for  self  is  very  much  like  what  the  gardener  calls  the  sucker 
at  the  bottom  of  the  tree,  which  never  bears  fruit  but  only 


A  LECTUEE  FOR  LITTLE-FAITH.  141 

Bocks  away  the  nourishment  from  the  tree  itself.  Now,  self 
is  tliat  sucker  which  sucks  away  the  nourishment  from  faith, 
and  you  must  cut  it  up  or  else  your  fiith  will  always  be  little 
faith,  and  you  will  have  difficulty  in  maintaining  any  comfort 
in  your  soul. 

But,  perhaps,  the  only  way  in  which  most  men  get  their 
faith  increased  is  by  great  trouble.  We  do  n't  grow  strong 
in  faith  on  sunshiny  days.  It  is  only  in  strong  weather  that 
a  man  gets  faith.  Faith  is  not  an  attainment  that  droppeth 
like  the  gentle  dew  from  heaven  ;  it  generally  comes  in  the 
whirlwind  and  the  storm.  Look  at  the  old  oaks  :  how  is  it 
that  they  have  become  so  deeply  rooted  in  the  earth  ?  Ask 
the  March  winds  and  they  will  tell  you.  It  was  not  the  April 
shower  that  did  it,  or  the  sweet  May  smishine,  but  it  was 
March's  rough  wind,  the  blustering  month  of  old  Boreas 
shaking  the  tree  to  and  fro  and  causing  its  roots  to  bind 
themselves  around  the  rocks.  So  must  it  be  with  us.  We 
do  n't  make  great  soldiers  in  the  barracks  at  home  ;  they  must 
be  made  amidst  flying  shot  and  thundering  cannon.  We  can 
not  expect  to  make  good  sailors  on  the  Serpentine  ;  they 
must  be  made  far  away  on  the  deep  sea,  where  the  wild  'vWnds 
howl,  and  the  thunders  roll  like  drums  in  the  march  of  the 
God  of  armies.  Storms  and  tempests  are  the  things  that 
make  men  tough  and  hardy  mariners.  They  see  the  woiks  of 
the  Lord  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep.  So  with  Christians. 
Great-fjuth  must  have  great  trials.  Mr.  Great-heart  would 
never  have  been  Mr.  Great-heart  if  he  had  not  once  been  Mr. 
Great-trouble.  VaUant-for-ti'uth  would  never  have  put  to 
flight  those  foes,  and  have  been  so  valiant,  if  the  foes  had  not 
first  attacked  him.  So  with  us  :  we  must  exj^ect  great  troubles 
before  we  shall  attain  to  much  faith. 

Then  he  who  would  have  great  faith,  must  exercise  wliat  he 
has.  I  should  not  like  to  morrow  to  go  and  shoe  horses,  or 
to  make  horse-shoes  on  an  anvil.  I  am  sure  my  arm  would 
ache  in  the  first  hour  with  lifting  the  heavy  hammer  and  bang- 
ing it  down  so  many  times.  Whatever  the  time  might  be, 
I  should  not  be  able  to  keep  time.  The  reason  why  the 
blacksmith's  arm  does  not  tire  is,  because  he  is  used  to  it.  He 


142  A   LECTTJEE   FOE   LITTLE-FAITH. 

has  kept  at  it  all  day  long  these  many  years,  till  there's  an  arm 
for  you  !  He  turns  up  his  sleeve  and  shows  you  the  strong 
sinew  that  never  tires,  so  strong  has  it  become  by  use.  Do 
you  want  to  get  your  faith  strong  ?  Use  it.  You  lazy  lie-a- 
bed Christians,  that  go  up  to  your  churches  and  chapels,  and 
take  your  seats,  and  hear  our  sermons,  and  talk  about  getting 
good,  but  never  think  about  doing  good  ;  ye  that  are  letting 
hell  fill  beneath  you,  and  yet  are  too  idle  to  stretch  out  your 
hands  to  pluck  brands  from  the  eternal  burning  ;  ye  that  see 
sin  running  down  your  streets,  yet  can  never  put  so  much  as 
your  foot  to  turn  or  stem  the  current,  I  wonder  not  that  you 
have  to  complain  of  the  littleness  of  your  faith.  It  ought  to 
be  little ;  you  do  but  httle,  and  why  should  God  give  you 
more  strength  than  you  mean  to  use.  Strong  fniih  must 
always  be  an  exercised  faith  ;  and  he  that  dares  not  exercise 
the  faith  he  has  shall  not  have  more.  "  Take  away  from  hira 
the  one  talent  and  give  it  to  him  that  hath,  because  he  did  not 
put  it  out  to  usury."  In  Mr.  Whitfield's  life,  you  do  not  often 
find  any  complaining  of  want  of  faith  ;  or  if  he  did,  it  was 
when  he  only  preached  nine  times  a  week ;  he  never  com- 
plained when  he  preached  sixteen  times.  Read  Grimshaw's 
life:  you  do  not  often  find  him  troubled  with  despondency 
when  he  preached  twenty-four  times  in  seven  days;  it  was 
only  when  he  was  growing  a  little  idle  and  only  preached 
twelve  times.  Keep  always  at  it,  and  all  at  it,  and  there  is  not 
much  fear  of  your  faith  becoming  weak.  It  is  with  our  faith 
as  with  boys  in  the  winter  time.  There  they  go  round  the 
fire,  rubbing  and  chafing  their  hands  to  keep  the  blood  in  cir- 
culation, and  almost  fighting  each  other  to  see  which  shall  sit 
on  the  fire  and  get  warm.  At  last  the  father  comes,  and  says, 
"  Boys,  this  won't  do ;  you  will  never  get  warm  by  these  arti- 
ficial means ;  run  out  and  do  some  work."  Then  they  all  go 
out,  and  they  come  in  again  with  a  ruddy  hue  in  their  cheeks, 
their  hands  no  longer  tingle,  and  they  say,  "  Well,  father,  we 
did  n't  think  it  half  so  warm  as  it  is."  So  must  it  be  with  you : 
you  must  set  to  work  if  you  would  have  your  faith  grow 
strong  and  warm.  Tine,  your  works  won't  save  you ;  but 
faith  without  works  is  dead,  fiozen  to  death ;  but  faith  with 


A  LECrrUEE  FOB   LITTLE-FAITH.  143 

works  groweth  to  a  red  heat  of  fei*vency  and  to  the  strength 
of  stability.  Go  and  teach  in  the  Sunday  School,  or  go  and  catch 
seven  or  eight  poor  ragged  children  ;  go  and  visit  the  poor  old 
woman  in  her  hovel ;  go  and  see  some  poor  dying  creature  in 
the  back  streets  of  our  great  city^^and  you  will  say,  "  Dear 
me !  how  wonderfully  my  faith  is  refreshed  just  by  doing 
something."  You  have  been  watering  yourself  whilst  you 
were  watering  others. 

Now  my  last  advice  shall  be  this — the  best  way  to  get  your 
faith  strengthened  is  to  have  communion  with  Christ.  If  you 
commune  with  Christ,  you  can  not  be  unbelieving.  When  his 
left  hand  is  under  my  head,  and  his  right  hand  doth  embrace 
me,  I  can  not  doubt.  When  my  Beloved  sits  at  his  table,  and 
he  brings  me  into  his  banqueting  house,  and  his  banner  over 
me  is  his  love,  then  indeed  I  do  believe.  When  I  feast  with 
him,  my  unbelief  is  abashed  and  hides  its  head.  Speak,  ye 
that  have  been  led  in  the  green  pastures,  and  have  been  made 
to  lie  down  by  the  still  waters ;  ye  who  have  seen  his  rod  and 
his  staff,  and  hope  to  see  them  even  when  you  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  ;  speak,  ye  that  have  sat  at 
his  feet  with  Mary,  or  laid  your  head  upon  his  bosom  with  the 
well-beloved  John ;  have  you  not  found,  when  you  have  been 
near  to  Christ,  your  faith  has  grown  strong,  jmd  when  you 
have  been  far  away,  then  your  faith  has  become  weak  ?  It  is 
impossible  to  look  Christ  in  the  face  and  then  doubt  him. 
When  you  can  not  see  him,  then  you  doubt  him  ;  but  if  you 
live  in  fellowship  \^th  him,  you  are  like  to  the  ewe  lambs  of 
Nathan's  parable,  for  you  lie  in  his  bosom,  and  eat  from  his 
tabic,  and  drink  from  his  cup.  You  must  believe  when  your 
Beloved  speaks  unto  you,  and  says,  "  Rise  up  my  love,  my 
fair  one,  and  come  away."  There  is  no  hesitation  then  ;  you 
must  arise  from  the  lowlands  of  your  doubt  up  to  the  hills  of 
assurance. 

•  in.  And  now,  in  conclusion,  there  is  a  certain  high  at- 
tainment  TO    WHICH    FAITH    MAY,  IF  DILIGENTLY  CULTIVATED, 

CERTAINLY  ATTAIN.  Can  a  mau's  faith  grow  so  strong  that  he 
will  never  afteiwards  doubt  at  all.  I  reply,  no.  He  who  has 
the  strongest  faith  will  have  sorrowful  intervals  of  despond 


144  A.  LECTUKE   FOE   LITTLE-PAITH. 

ency.  I  suppose  there  has  scarcely  ever  been  a  Christian  who 
has  not,  at  some  time  or  other,  had  the  most  painful  doubts 
concerning  his  acceptance  in  the  Beloved.  All  God's  children 
will  have  paroxysms  of  doubt  even  thongh  they  be  usually 
strong  in  faith.  Again,  may  a  man  so  cultivate  his  faith  that 
he  may  be  infallibly  sure  that  he  is  a  child  of  God — so  sure  that 
he  has  made  no  mistake — so  sure  that  all  the  doubts  and  fears 
which  may  be  thrust  upon  him  may  not  be  able  at  that  time 
to  get  an  advantage  over  him  ?  I  answer,  yes,  decidedly  he 
may.  A  man  may,  in  this  life,  be  as  sure  of  his  acceptance  m 
the  Beloved  as  he  is  of  his  own  existence.  Nay,  he  not  only 
may,  but  there  are  some  of  us  who  have  enjoyed  this  precious 
state  and  privilege  for  years;  we  do  not  mean  for  years 
together — our  peace  has  been  interrupted,  we  have  now  and 
then  been  subjected  to  doubts;  but  I  have  known  some — I 
knevr  one  especially,  who  said  that  for  thirty  years  he  had  en- 
joyed almost  invariably  a  full  sense  of  his  acceptance  in  Christ. 
"  I  have  had,"  he  said,  "  very  often  a  sense  of  sin,  but  I  have 
had  with  that  a  sense  of  the  power  of  the  blood  of  Christ ;  I 
have  now  and  then  for  a  little  time  had  great  despondency, 
but  still  I  may  say,  taking  it  as  a  general  rule,  that  for  thirty 
years  I  have  enjoyed  the  fullest  assurance  of  my  acceptance  in 
the  Beloved."  I  trust  a  large  portion  of  God's  people  can  say 
that  for  months  and  years  they  have  not  had  to  sing, 

"  'Tis  a  point  I  long  to  know ;" 

but  they  can  say,  "  I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed,  and  am 
persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed 
to  him."  I  will  try  to  depict  the  state  of  the  Christian ;  he 
may  be  as  poor  as  poverty  can  make  him,  but  he  is  rich ;  he 
has  no  thought  with  regard  to  the  morrow,  for  the  morrow 
shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself.  He  casts  himself 
upon  the  providence  of  God  ;  he  believes  that  he  who  clothes 
the  lilies,  and  feeds  the  ravens,  will  not  allow  his  children  to 
go  starving  or  barefooted.  He  has  but  little  concern  as  to  his 
temporal  estate  ;  he  folds  his  arms  and  floats  down  the  stream 
of  providence  singing  all  the  way ;  whether  he  float  by  mud 
bank,  dark,  dreary,  and  noxious,  or  by  palace  fair  and  valley 


A   LECTURE   FOR   LITTLE-FAITH.  145 

pleasant,  he  alters  not  bis  position ;  he  neither  moves  nor 
struggles ;  he  has  no  will  nor  wish  which  way  to  swim,  his 
only  desire  being  to  "  lie  passive  in  God's  hand,  and  know  no 
wiU  but  his."  When  the  storm  fl^ies  over  his  head  he  finds 
Christ  to  be  a  shelter  from  the  tempest ;  when  Jhe  heat  is 
great  he  finds  Christ  to  be  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a 
weary  land.  He  just  casts  his  anchor  down  deep  into  the  sea, 
and  when  the  wind  blows,  he  sleeps ;  hurricanes  may  come 
about  his  ears,  the  masts  creak,  and  every  timber  seem  to  be 
strained  and  every  nail  to  start  from  its  place,  but  there  he 
sleeps ;  Christ  is  at  the  helm  ;  he  says,  "  My  anchor  is  within 
the  vail,  I  know  it  will  keep  its  hold."  The  earth  shakes  be- 
neath his  feet ;  but  he  says,  "  Though  the  earth  be  removed 
and  mountains  be  cast  into  the  sea,  yet  will  not  we  fear,  for 
God  is  our  refuge  and  strength,  and  a  very  present  help  in 
time  of  trouble."  Ask  him  about  his  eternal  interests,  and  he 
tells  you  that  his  only  confidence  is  in  Christ,  and  that  die 
when  he  may,  he  knows  he  shall  stand  boldly  at  the  last  great 
day  clothed  in  his  Saviour's  righteousness.  He  speaks  very 
confidently  though  never  boastingly  ;  though  he  has  no  time  to 
dance  the  giddy  dance  of  presumption,  he  stands  firmly  on  the 
rock  of  confidence.  Perhaps  you  think  he  is  proud — ah  !  he 
is  a  humble  man  ;  he  lies  low  before  the  cross,  but  not  before 
you ;  he  can  look  you  boldly  in  the  face,  and  tell  you  that 
Christ  is  able  to  keep  that  which  he  has  committed  to  him. 
He  knows  that 

•*  His  honor  is  engaged  to  save 
The  meanest  of  bis  sheep, 
All  that  his  heavenly  Father  gave, 
His  hands  securely  keep." 

And  die  when  he  may  he  can  lay  his  head  upon  the  pillow  of 
the  promise,  and  breathe  his  life  out  on  the  Saviour's  breast 
without  a  struggle  or  a  murmur,  crying — "  Victoiy,"  in  the 
arms  of  death ;  challenging  Death  to  produce  his  sting,  and 
demanding  of  the  grave  its  victory.  Such  is  the  effect  of 
strong  faith ;  I  repeat,  the  weakest  in  the  world,  by  diligent 
cultivation,  may  attain  to  it.     Only  seek  the  refreshing  influ- 

7 


146  A  LECTURE   FOR   LITTI.E-FAITH. 

ence  of  the  divine  Spirit,  and  walk  in  Christ's  commandments, 
and  live  near  to  him ;  and  ye  that  are  dwarfs,  Hke  Zaccheus, 
shall  become  as  giants ;  the  hyssop  on  the  wall  shall  start  up 
into  the  dignity  of  the  cedar  of  Lebanon,  and  ye  that  fly  be- 
fore your  enemies  shnll  yet  be  able  to  chase  a  thousand,  and 
two  of  you  shall  put  ten  thousand  to  flight.  May  the  Lord 
enable  his  poor  little  ones  so  to  grow  ! 

As  for  those  of  you  who  have  no  faith  in  Christ,  let  me  re- 
mind  you  of  one  sad  thing — namely,  that  "  without  faith  it  is 
impossible  to  please  God."  If  thou  hast  not  put  thy  trust  in 
Christ,  then  God  is  angry  with  thee  every  day.  ^'  If  thou 
turn  not  he  will  whet  his  sword,  for  he  hath  bent  his  bow  and 
made  it  ready."  I  beseech  thee,  cast  thyself  on  Christ;  he  is 
worthy  of  thy  trust ;  there  is  none  other  to  trust  to  ;  he  is 
willing  to  receive  thee  ;  he  invites  thee  ;  he  shed  his  blood  for 
thee ;  he  intercedes  for  thee.  Believe  on  him,  for  thus  his 
promise  runs,  *'He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
saved."  Do  both  of  these  things.  Believe  on  him,  and  then 
profess  thy  faith  in  baptism  ;  and  the  Lord  bless  thee,  and 
hold  thee  to  the  end,  and  make  thee  to  increase  exceedingly 
in  faith,  to  the  glory  of  God.     May  the  Lord  add  his  blessing ! 


SERMON  IX. 

CONFESSION  AND  ABSOLUTION. 

"And  the  publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  up  so  much  as  his  eyes 
unto  heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to  mo  a 
sinner." — Luke,  xviii.  13. 

The  heroes  of  our  Saviour's  stories  are  most  of  them 
selected  to  illustrate  traits  of  characj:er  entirely  dissimilar  to 
their  general  reputation.  What  would  you  think  of  a  moral 
writer  of  our  own  day,  should  he  endeavor,  in  a  work  of  fic- 
tion, to  set  before  us  the  gentle  virtue  of  benevolence  by  the 
example  of  a  Sepoy  ?  And  yet,  Jesus  Christ  has  given  us  one 
of  the  finest  examples  of  charity  in  the  case  of  a  Samaritan. 
To  the  Jews,  a  Samaritan  was  as  proverbial  for  his  bitter  ani- 
mosity against  their  nation,  as  the  Sepoy  is  among  us  for  his 
treacherous  cruelty,  and  as  much  an  object  of  contempt  and 
hatred ;  but  Jesus  Christ,  nevertheless,  chose  his  hero  from 
the  Samaritans,  that  there  should  be  nothing  adventitious  to 
adorn  him,  but  that  all  the  adorning  might  be  given  to  the 
grace  of  charity.  Thus,  too,  in  the  present  instance,  oui 
Saviour,  being  desirous  of  setting  before  us  the  necessity  of 
humiliation  in  prayer,  has  not  selected  some  distinguished 
saint  who  was  famed  for  his  humility,  but  he  has  chosen  a  tax- 
gatherer,  probably  one  of  the  most  extortionate  of  his  class, 
for  the  Pharisee  seems  to  hint  as  much ;  and  I  doubt  not  he 
cast  lus  eye  askance  at  this  publican,  when  he  observed,  with 
self-gratulation,  "God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other 
men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as  this  pub- 
lican." Still,  our  Lord,  in  order  that  we  might  see  that  there 
was  nothing  to  predispose  in  the  person,  but  that  the  accept- 
ance of  the  prayer  might  stand  out,  set  even  in  a  brighter 
light  by  the  black  foil  of  the  publican's  character,  has  selected 


148  CONFESSION   AND   AKSOLUTION. 

this  man  to  be  the  pattern  and  narodel  of  one  who  should  offer 
an  acceptable  prayer  unto  God.  Note  that,  and  you  will  not 
be  surprised  to  find  the  same  characteristic  exhibited  very  fre- 
quently in  the  parables  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  As  for  this 
publican,  we  know  but  little  of  his  previous  career,  but  we 
may,  without  periling  any  serious  error,  conjecture  somewhat 
near  the  truth.  He  may  have  been,  and  doubtless  he  was  a 
Jew,  piously  brought  up  and  religiously  trained,  but,  perhaps 
like  Levi,  he  ran  aw^ay  from  his  parents,  and  finding  no  other 
trade  exactly  suited  to  his  vicious  taste,  he  became  one  of  that 
corrupt  class  Avho  collected  the  Roman  taxes,  and,  ashamed 
to  be  known  as  Levi  any  longer,  he  changed  his  name  to 
Matthew,  lest  any  one  should  recognize  in  the  degraded  caste 
of  the  publican,  the  man  whose  parents  feared  God  and  bowed 
their  knees  before  Jehovah.  It  may  be  that  this  publican 
had  in  his  youth  forsaken  the  ways  of  his  fathers,  and  given 
himself  uj?  to  lasciviousness,  and  then  found  this  unworthy 
occupation  to  be  most  accordant  with  his  vicious  spirit.  We 
can  not  tell  how  often  he  had  ground  the  faces  of  the  poor,  or 
how  many  curses  had  been  spilled  upon  his  head  when  he  had 
broken  into  the  heritage  of  the  widow,  and  had  robbed  the 
friendless,  unj)rotected  orphan.  The  Roman  government  gave 
a  publican  far  greater  power  than  he  ought  to  possess,  and  he 
was  never  slow  to  use  the  advantage  for  his  own  enrichment. 
Probably  half  of  all  he  had  was  a  robbery,  if  not  more,  for 
Zaccheus  seems, to  hint  as  much  in  his  own  instance,  when  he 
says — "  Behold,  Lord,  the  half  of  my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor, 
and  if  I  have  gotten  any  thing  of  any  man  by  false  accusation, 
X  restore  it  unto  him  four-fold."  It  w^as  not  often  that  this 
publican  troubled  the  temple;  the  priests  very  seldom  saw 
him  coming  with  a  sacrifice  ;  it  would  have  been  an  abomina- 
tion, and  he  did  not  bring  it.  But  so  it  happened  that  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  met  with  the  publican  ;  and  had  made  him 
think  upon  his  w^ays,  and  their  peculiar  blackness :  he  was  full 
of  trouble,  but  he  kept  it  to  himself,  pent  up  in  his  own  bosom ; 
he  could  scarcely  rest  at  night,  nor  go  about  his  business  by 
day,  for  day  and  night  the  hand  of  God  was  heavy  upon  him. 
At  last,  unable  to  endure  his  misery  any  longer,  he  thought  of 


CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION.  149 

that  house  of  God  at  Zion,  and  of  the  sacrifice  that  was  daily- 
offered  there.  "  To  whom,  or  where  should  I  go,"  said  he,  "  but 
to  God  ? — and  where  can  I  hope  to  find  mercy,  but  where  the 
sacrifice  is  offered  ?"  No  sooner  said  than  done.  He  went ; 
his  unaccustomed  feet  bent  their  steps  to  the  sanctuary,  but  he 
is  ashamed  to  enter.  Yon  Pharisee,  holy  man  as  he  appeared 
to  be,  goes  up  unblushingly  to  the  court  of  the  Israelites ;  he 
goes  as  near  as  he  dare  to  the  very  precincts,  within  which  the 
priesthood  alone  might  stand  ;  and  he  prays  with  boastful  lan- 
guage. But  as  for  the  publican,  he  chooses  out  for  himself 
some  secluded  corner  where  he  shall  neither  be  seen  nor  heard, 
and  now  he  is  about  to  pray,  not  with  uplifted  hands  as  yon- 
der Pharisee,  not  with  eyes  turned  up  to  heaven  with  a  sancti- 
monious gaze  of  hypocrisy,  but  fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  ground, 
the  hot  tears  streaming  from  them,  not  daring  to  lift  them  up 
to  heaven.  At  last  his  stifled  feelings  found  utterance ;  yet 
that  utterance  was  a  groan,  a  short  prayer  that  must  all  be 
comprehended  in  the  compass  of  a  sigh :  "  God  be  merciful  to 
me  a  sinner."  It  is  done ;  he  is  hoard ;  the  angel  of  mercy 
registers  his  pardon ;  his  conscience  is  at  peace ;  he  goes  down 
to  his  house  a  happier  man,  justified  rather  than  the  Pharisee, 
and  rejoicing  in  the  justification  that  the  Lord  had  given  to 
him.  Well,  then,  my  business  this  morning  is  to  invite,  to 
urge,  to  beseech  you  to  do  what  the  publican  did,  that  you 
may  receive  what  he  obtained.  There  are  two  particulars 
upon  which  I  shall  endeavor  to  speak  solemnly  and  earnestly ; 
the  first  is  confession  /  the  second  is  absolution. 

I.  Brethren,  let  us  imitate  the  publican,  first  of  all  in  his 
CONFESSION.  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  public  excite- 
ment during  the  last  few  weeks  and  months  about  the  confes- 
sional. As  for  that  matter,  it  is  perhaps  a  mercy  that  the  out- 
ward and  visible  sign  of  Popery  in  the  Church  of  England  has 
discovered  to  its  sincere  friends  the  inward  and  spiritual  evil 
which  had  long  been  lurking  there.  We  need  not  imagine 
that  the  confessional,  or  priestcraft,  of  which  it  is  merely  an 
offshoot,  in  the  Church  of  England,  is  any  novelty:  it  has  long 
been  there ;  those  of  us  who  are  outside  her  borders  have  long 
observed  and  mourned  over  it ;  but  now  we  congratulate  our- 


150  CONFESSION  AND   ABSOLUTION. 

selves  on  the  prospect  that  the  Church  of  England  herself  will 
be  compelled  to  discover  her  own  evils ;  and  we  hope  that 
God  may  give  her  grace  and  strength  to  cut  the  cancer  out 
of  her  own  breast  before  she  shall  cease  to  be  a  Protestant 
church,  and  God  shall  cast  her  away  as  an  abhorred  thing. 
This  morning,  however,  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  confes- 
sional. Silly  women  may  go  on  confessing  as  long  as  they 
like,  and  foolish  husbands  may  trust  their  waives  if  they  please 
to  such  men  as  those.  Let  those  that  are  fools  show  it ;  let 
those  that  have  no  sense  do  as  they  please  about  it ;  but  as 
for  myself,  I  should  take  the  greatest  care  that  neither  I 
nor  mine  have  aught  to  do  with  such  things.  Leaving 
that,  however,  we  come  to  personal  matters,  endeavoring 
to  learn,  even  from  the  errors  of  others,  how  to  act  rightly 
ourselves. 

Note  the  publican's  confession  ;  to  lohom  was  it  presented P 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  Did  the  publican  ever 
think  about  going  to  the  priest  to  ask  for  mercy,  and  confess- 
ing his  sins  ?  The  thought  may  have  crossed  his  mind,  but 
his  sin  was  too  great  a  weight  upon  his  conscience  to  be 
relieved  in  any  such  way,  so  he  very  soon  dismissed  the  idea. 
"No,"  said  he,  "I  feel  that  my  sin  is  of  such  a  character  that 
none  but  God  can  take  it  away ;  and  even  if  it  w^ere  right  for 
me  to  go  and  make  the  confession  to  my  fellow  creature,  yet 
I  should  think  it  must  be  utterly  unavailing  in  my  case,  for 
my  disease  is  of  such  a  nature,  that  none  but  an  Almighty 
Physician  ever  can  remove  it."  So  he  directs  his  confession 
and  his  prayer  to  one  place,  and  to  one  alone — "  God  be  mer- 
ciful to  me  a  sinner."  And  you  will  note  in  this  confession  to 
God,  that  it  was  secret:  all  that  you  can  hear  of  his  confession 
is  just  that  one  word — "a  sinner."  Do  you  suppose  that  was 
all  he  confessed  ?  No,  beloved,  I  believe  that  long  before  this, 
the  publican  had  made  a  confession  of  all  his  sins  privately, 
upon  his  knees  in  his  own  house  before  God.  But  now,  in 
God's  house,  all  he  has  to  say  for  man  to  hear,  is — "  I  am  a 
sinner."  And  I  counsel  you,  if  ever  you  make  a  confession 
before  man,  let  it  be  a  general  one,  but  never  a  particular  one. 
You  ought  to  confess  often  to  your  fellow  creatures  that  you 


CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION.  151 

have  been  a  sinner,  bat  to  tell  to  any  man  in  what  respect  you 
have  been  a  sinner,  is  but  to  sin  over  again,  and  to  help  your 
fellow  creature  to  transgress.  How  filthy  must  be  the  soul  of 
that  priest  who  makes  his  ear  a  common  sewer  for  the  filth  of 
other  men's  hearts.  I  can  not  imagine  even  the  devil  to  be 
more  depraved  than  the  man  who  spends  his  time  in  sitting 
with  liis  ear  against  the  lips  of  men  and  women  who,  if  they 
do  truly  confess,  must  make  him  an  adept  in  every  vice,  and 
school  him  in  iniquities  that  he  otherwise  never  could  have 
known.  Oh,  I  charge  you  never  pollute  your  fellow  creature  ; 
keep  your  sin  to  yourself  and  to  your  God ;  he  can  not  be 
polluted  by  your  iniquity;  make  a  plain  and  full  confession  of 
it  before  him ;  but  to  your  fellow  creature  add  nothing  to 
the  general  confession — "  I  am  a  sinner !" 

This  confession  which  he  made  before  God  was  spontaneous. 
There  was  no  question  put  to  this  man  as  to  whether  he  were 
a  sinner  or  no  ;  as  to  whether  he  had  broken  the  seventh  com- 
mandment, or  the  eighth,  or  the  ninth,*or  the  tenth  ;  no,  his 
heart  was  full  of  penitence,  and  it  melted  out  in  this  brenthing 
— "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  They  tell  us  that  some 
people  never  can  make  a  full  confession  except  a  priest  help 
them  by  questions.  My  dear  friends,  the  very  excellence  of 
penitence  is  lost,  and  its  spell  broken,  if  there  be  a  question 
asked :  the  confession  is  not  true  and  real  unless  it  be  sponta- 
neous. The  man  can  not  have  felt  the  weight  of  sin,  who  wants 
somebody  to  tell  him  what  his  sins  are.  Can  you  imagine  any 
man  with  a  burden  on  his  back,  who,  before  he  groaned  un- 
der it,  wanted  to  be  told  that  he  had  got  one  there  ?  Surely 
not.  The  man  groans  under  it,  and  he  does  not  want  to  be 
told — "  There  it  is  on  your  back,"  he  knows  it  is  there.  And 
if,  by  the  questioning  of  a  priest,  a  full  and  thorough  confes- 
sion could  be  drawn  from  any  man  or  woman,  it  would  be 
totally  useless,  totally  vain  before  God,  because  it  is  not  spon- 
taneous. Wo  must  confess  our  sins  because  we  can  not  help 
confessing  them ;  it  must  come  out,  because  we  can  not  keep  it 
in  ;  like  tire  in  the  bones,  it  seems  as  if  it  would  melt  our  very 
spirits  unless  we  gave  vent  to  the  groaning  of  our  confession 
before  the  throne  of  God.    See  this  publican ;  you  can  not 


152  CONCESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION. 

hear  the  abject  full  confession  that  he  makes ;  all  that  you  can 
hear  is  his  simple  acknowledgment  that  he  is  a  sinner ;  but 
that  comes  spontaneously  from  his  lips  ;  God  himself  has  not 
to  ask  him  the  question,  but  he  comes  before  the  throne,  and 
freely  surrenders  himself  up  to  the  hands  of  Almighty  Justice, 
confessing  that  he  is  a  rebel  and  a  sinner.  That  is  the  first 
thing  we  have  to  note  in  his  confession — that  he  made  it  to 
God  secretly  and  spontaneously ;  and  all  he  said  openly  was 
that  he  was  "a  sinner." 

Again  :  %ohat  did  he  confess  f  He  confessed,  as  our  text 
tells  us,  that  he  was  a  sinner.  Now,  how  suitable  is  this  prayer 
for  us !  For  is  there  a  Xv^  here  jDresent  that  this  confession 
will  not  suit — "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  ?"  Do  you 
say — "  the  prayer  will  suit  the  harlot,  when,  after  a  life  of  sin, 
rottenness  is  in  her  bones,  and  she  is  dying  in  despair— that 
prayer  suits  her  lips  ?"  Ay,  but  my  friend,  it  will  suit  thy 
lips  and  mine  too.  If  thou  knowest  thy  heart,  and  I  know 
mine,  the  prayer  that  will  suit  her  will  suit  us  also.  You  have 
never  committed  the  sins  which  the  Pharisee  disowned  ;  you 
have  neither  been  extortionate,  nor  unjust,  nor  an  adulterer; 
you  have  never  been  even  as  the  publican ;  but  nevertheless 
the  word  "  sinner"  will  still  apply  to  you  ;  and  you  will  feel  it 
to  be  so  if  you  are  in  a  right  condition.  Remember  how  much 
you  have  sinned  against  light.  It  is  true  the  harlot  hath  sinned 
more  openly  than  you,  but  had  she  such  light  as  you  have  had  ? 
Do  you  think  she  had  such  an  early  education  and  such  train- 
ing as  you  have  received  ?  Did  she  ever  receive  such  check- 
ings of  conscience  and  such  guardings  of  providence,  as  those 
which  have  watched  over  your  career  ?  This  much  I  must 
confess  for  myself — I  do,  and  must  feel  a  peculiar  heinousness 
in  my  own  sin,  for  I  sin  against  light,  against  conscience,  and 
more,  against  the  love  of  God  received,  and  against  the  mercy 
of  God  promised.  Come  forward,  thou  greatest  among  saints, 
and  answer  this  question — does  not  this  prayer  suit  thee  ?  I 
hear  thee  answer,  without  one  moment's  pause—"  Ay,  it  suits 
me  now ;  and  until  I  die,  my  quivering  lips  must  often  repeat 
the  petition,  '  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me  a  sinner.' "  Men 
and  brethren,  I  beseech  you  use  this  prayer  to-day,  for  it  must 


CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION.  „     153 

suit  you  all.  Merchant,  hast  thou  no  sins  of  business  to 
confess?  Woman,  hast  thou  no  household  sins  to  acknowl- 
edge ?  Child  of  many  prayers,  hast  thou  no  offense  against 
father  and  mother  to  confess?  Have  we  loved  the  Lord  our 
God  with  all  our  heart,  with  all  our  soul,  with  all  our  strength  ; 
and  have  we  each  loved  our  neighbor  as  ourself  ?  Oh,  let  us 
close  our  hps  as  to  any  boasting,  and  when  we  open  them,  let 
these  be  the  first  words  that  escape  from  them,  "  I  have  sinned, 
O  Lord ;  I  have  broken  thy  commandments ;  Lord,  have 
mercy  upon  me  a  sinner."  But  mark,  is  it  not  a  strange  thing 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  should  teach  a  man  to  plead  his  sinnership 
before  the  throne  of  God  ?  One  would  think  that  when  we 
come  before  God  we  should  try  to  talk  a  little  of  our  virtues. 
Who  would  suppose  that  when  a  man  was  asking  for  mercy 
he  would  say  of  himself,  "I  am  a  sinner?"  Why  surely  rea- 
son would  prompt  him  to  say,  "  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me  ; 
there  is  some  good  point  about  me :  Lord  have  mercy  upon 
me ;  I  am  not  worse  than  my  neighbors :  Lord  have  mercy 
upon  me  ;  I  will  try  to  be  better."  Is  it  not  against  reason, 
is  it  not  marvelously  above  reason,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  should 
teach  a  man  to  urge  at  the  throne  of  grace  that  which  seems 
to  be  against  his  plea,  the  fact  that  he  is  a  sinner  ?  And  yet, 
dear  brethren,  if  you  and  I  want  to  be  heard,  we  must  come 
to  Christ  as  sinners.  Do  not  let  us  attempt  to  make  ourselves 
better  than  we  are.  When  we  come  to  God's  throne,  let  us 
not  for  one  moment  seek  to  gather  any  of  the  false  jewels  of 
our  pretended  virtues ;  rags  are  the  garments  of  sinners. 
Confession  is  the  only  music  that  must  come  from  our  lips; 
"God  be  merciful  to  me — a  sinner;"  that  must  be  the  only 
character  in  which  I  can  pray  to  God.  Now,  are  there  not 
many  here  who  feel  that  they  are  sinners,  and  are  groaning, 
sighing  and  lamenting,  because  the  weight  of  sm  lies  on  their 
conscience  ?  Brothrs,  I  am  glad  thou  feelest  thyself  to  be  a 
sinner,  for  thou  hast  the  key  of  the  kingdom  in  thy  hands. 
Thy  sense  of  sinnership  is  thy  only  title  to  mercy.  Como,  I 
beseech  thee,  just  as  thou  art — thy  nakedness  is  thy  only  claim 
on  heaven's  wardrobe  ;  thy  hunger  is  thy  only  claim  on  hea- 
ven's granaries ;  thy  poverty  is  thy  only  claim  on  heaven's 

7* 


154  COXPESSIOX   AXD    ABSOLUTION. 

eternal  riches.  Come  just  as  thou  art,  with  nothing  of  thine 
own,  except  thy  sinfulness,  and  plead  that  before  the  throne 
— "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  This  is  what  this  man 
confessed,  that  he  was  a  sinner,  and  he  pleaded  it,  making  the 
burden  of  his  confession  to  be  the  matter  of  his  plea  before 
God. 

Now  again,  how  does  he  come  f  What  is  the  posture  that 
he  assumes  ?  The  first  thing  I  would  have  you  notice  is  that 
he  "  stood  afar  off."  What  did  he  do  that  for  ?  Was  it  not 
because  he  felt  himself  a  separated  man  ?  We  have  often  made 
general  confessions  in  the  temple,  but  there  never  was  a  con- 
fession accepted,  except  it  was  particular,  personal,  and  heart- 
felt. There  were  the  people  gathered  together  for  the  accus- 
tomed service  of  worship ;  they  join  in  a  jDsalm  of  praise,  but 
the  poor  publican  stood  far  away  from  them.  Anon,  they 
unite  in  the  order  of  prayer,  still  he  could  not  go  near  them. 
No,  he  was  come  there  for  himself,  and  he  must  stand  by  him- 
self Like  the  wounded  hart  that  seeks  the  deepest  glades 
of  the  forest  where  it  may  bleed  and  die  alone  in  profound 
solitude,  so  did  this  poor  publican  seem  to  feel  he  must  be 
alone.  You  notice  he  does  not  say  any  thing  about  other  peo- 
ple in  his  prayer.  "  God  be  merciful  to  me,"  he  says.  He 
does  not  say  "  one  of  a  company  of  sinners,"  but  "  a  sinner," 
as  if  there  were  not  another  sinner  in  all  the  world.  Mark 
this,  my  hearer,  that  thou  must  feel  thyself  solitary  and  alone, 
before  thou  canst  ever  pray  this  prayer  acceptably.  Has  the 
Lord  ever  picked  thee  out  in  a  congregation  ?  Has  it  seemed 
to  you  in  this  hall  as  if  there  were  a  great  black  wall  round 
about  you,  and  you  were  closed  in  with  the  preacher  and  with 
your  God,  and  as  if  every  shaft  from  the  preacher's  bow  was 
leveled  at  you^  and  every  threatening  meant  for  you^  and 
every  solemn  upbraiding  was  an  upbraiding  ioxyou  f  If  thou 
hast  felt  this,  I  will  congratulate  thee.  No  man  ever  prayed 
this  prayer  aright  unless  he  prayed  alone;  unless  he  said, 
*'  God  be  merciful  to  we,"  as  a  solitary,  lonely  sinner.  "  The 
publican  stood  afar  off." 

Note  the  next  thing.  "  He  would  not  lift  up  so  much  as 
his  eyes  unto  heaven."     That  was  because  he  dare  not,  not 


CONTESSION    AND   ABSOLUTIOJf.  155 

because  he  would  not ;  he  would  have  done  it  if  he  dared. 
How  remarkable  it  is  that  repentance  takes  all  the  daring  out 
of  men.  We  have  seen  fellows  very  dare-devils  before  they 
were  touched  by  sovereign  grace,  who  have  become  afterwards 
the  most  trembling  and  conscientious  men  with  the  tenderest 
conscience  that  one  could  imagine.  Men  who  were  careless, 
bragging  and  defying  God,  have  become  as  humble  as  little 
children,  and  even  afraid  to  lift  their  eyes  to  heaven,  though 
once  they  sent  their  oaths  and  curses  there.  But  why  did  he 
not  dare  to  lift  his  eyes  up  ?  It  was  because  he  was  dejected 
in  his  "spiiit,"  so  oppressed  and  burdened  tliat  he  could  not 
look  up.  Is  that  thy  case,  my  friend,  this  morning  ?  Are  you 
afraid  to  pray  ?  Do  you  feel  as  if  you  could  not  hope  that 
God  would  have  mercy  on  you  ;  as  if  the  least  gleam  of  hope 
was  more  light  than  you  could  possibly  bear ;  as  if  your  eyes 
were  so  used  to  the  darkness  of  doubt  and  despondency,  that 
even  one  stolen  ray  seemed  to  be  too  much  for  your  poor 
weak  vision  ?  Ah  !  well,  fear  not,  for  happy  shall  it  be  for 
thee ;  thou  art  only  following  the  publican  in  his  sad  experi- 
ence now,  and  the  Lord  who  helps  thee  to  follow  him  in  the 
confession,  shall  help  thee  to  rejoice  with  him  in  the  absolu- 
tion. 

Note  what  else  he  did.  He  smote  upon  his  breast.  He 
was  a  good  theologian  ;  he  was  a  real  doctor  of  divinity. 
What  did  he  smite  his  breast  for  ?  Because  he  knew  where 
the  mischief  lay — in  liis  breast.  He  did  not  smite  upon  his 
blow  as  some  men  do  when  they  are  perplexed,  as  if  the  mis- 
take were  in  their  understanding.  Many  a  man  will  blame  his 
understanding,  while  he  will  not  blame  his  heart,  and  say, 
"  Well,  I  have  made  a  mistake ;  I  have  certainly  been  doing 
wrong,  but  I  am  a  good-hearted  fellow  at  the  bottom."  This 
man  knew  where  the  mischief  lay,  and  he  smote  the  right 
place. 

"  Here  on  my  heart  the  burden  lies." 

He  smote  upon  his  breast  as  if  he  were  angry  with  himself. 
He  seemed  to  say,  *'  Oh  !  that  I  could  smite  tliee,  my  ungrate* 
ful  heart,  the  harder,  that  thou  hast  loved  sin  rather  than 


156  CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION. 

God."  He  did  not  do  penance,  and  yet  it  was  a  kind  of  pen- 
ance upon  himself  when  he  smote  his  breast  again  and  again, 
and  cried,  "  Alas !  alas !  woe  is  me  that  I  should  ever  have 
sinned  against  my  God — '  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.' " 
Now,  can  you  come  to  God  like  this,  my  dear  friend  ?  Oh, 
let  us  all  draw  near  to  God  in  this  fashion.  Thou  hast  enough 
my  brother,  to  make  thee  stand  alone,  for  there  have  been 
sins  in  which  thou  and  I  have  stood  each  of  us  in  solitary  guilt. 
There  are  iniquities  known  only  to  ourselves,  which  we  never 
told  to  the  partner  of  our  own  bosom,  not  to  our  own  parents 
or  brothers,  nor  yet  to  the  friend  with  whom  we  took  sweet 
counsel.  If  we  have  sinned  thus  alone,  let  us  go  to  our  cham- 
bers, and  confess  alone,  the  husband  apart,  and  the  wife  apart, 
the  father  apart,  and  the  child  apart.  Let  us  each  one  wail  for 
himself.  Men  and  brethren,  leave  oif  to  accuse  one  another. 
Cease  from  the  bickerings  of  your  censoriousness,  and  from 
the  slanders  of  your  envy.  Rebuke  yourselves  and  not  your 
fellows.  Rend  your  own  hearts,  and  not  the  reputation  of 
your  neighbors.  Come,  let  each  man  now  look  to  his  own 
case,  and  not  to  the  case  of  another ;  let  each  cry,"  Lord  have 
mercy  upon  me,  as  here  I  stand  alone,  a  sinner."  And  hast 
thou  not  good  reason  to  cast  down  thine  eyes  ?  Does  it  not 
seem  sometimes  too  much  for  us  ever  to  look  to  heaven  again  ? 
We  have  blasphemed  God,  some  of  us,  and  even  imprecated 
curses  on  our  own  limbs  and  eyes ;  and  when  those  things 
come  back  to  our  memory  we  may  well  be  ashamed  to  look 
up.  Or  if  we  have  been  preserved  from  the  crime  of  open 
blasphemy,  how  often  have  you  and  I  forgotten  God !  how 
often  have  we  neglected  prayer !  how  have  we  broken  his  Sab- 
baths and  left  his  Bible  unread !  Surely  these  things,  as  they 
flash  across  our  memory,  might  constrain  us  to  feel  that  we 
can  not  lift  up  so  much  as  our  eyes  tov>^ard  heaven.  And  as 
for  smiting  on  our  breast,  what  man  is  there  among  us  that 
need  not  do  it  ?  Let  us  be  angry  with  ourselves,  because  we 
have  provoked  God  to  be  angry  with  us.  Let  us  be  in  wrath 
with  the  sins  that  have  brought  ruin  upon  our  souls ;  let  us 
drag  the  traitors  out,  and  put  them  at  once  to  a  summary 
death ;  they  deserve  it  well ;  they  have  been  our  ruin  ;  let  us 


CONPESSION   AND  ABSOLUTION.  157 

be  their  destruction.     He  smote  upon  his  breast  and  said, 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 

There  is  one  other  feature  in  this  man's  prayer  which  you 
must  not  overlook.  What  reason  had  he  to  expect  that  God 
would  have  any  mercy  upon  him  ?  The  Greek  explains  more 
to  us  than  the  EngHsh  does ;  and  the  original  word  here  might 
be  translated — "  God  be  propitiated  to  me  a  sinner."  There 
is  in  the  Greek  word  a  distinct  reference  to  the  doctrine  of 
atonement.  It  is  not  the  Unitarian's  prayer — "  God  be  mer- 
ciful to  me';''  it  is  more  than  that — it  is  the  Christian's  prayer, 
"  God  be  propitiated  toward  me,  a  sinner."  There  is,  I  re- 
peat it,  a  distinct  appeal  to  the  atonement  and  the  mercy-seat 
in  this  short  prayer.  Friend,  if  we  would  come  before  God 
with  our  confessions,  we  must  take  care  that  we  plead  the 
blood  df  Christ.  There  is  no  hope  for  a  poor  sinner  apart 
from  the  cross  of  Jesus.  We  may  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to 
me,"  but  the  prayer  can  never  be  answered  apart  from  the 
victim  offered,  the  Lamb  slain  from  before  the  foundation  of 
the  world.  When  thou  hast  thine  eye  upon  the  mercy-seat, 
take  care  to  have  thine  eye  upon  the  cross  too.  Remember 
that  the  cross  is,  after  all,  the  mercy-seat ;  that  mercy  never 
was  enthroned  until  she  did  hang  upon  the  cross  crowned 
with  thorns.  If  thou  wouldst  find  pardon,  go  to  dark  Geth- 
Bcmane,  and  see  thy  Redeemer  sweating,  in  deep  anguish, 
gouts  of  gore.  If  thou  wouldst  have  peace  of  conscience,  go 
to  Gabbatha,  the  pavement,  and  see  thy  Saviour's  back  flood- 
ed with  a  stream  of  blood.  If  thou  wouldst  have  the  last 
best  rest  to  thy  conscience,  go  to  Golgotha  ;  see  the  murdered 
victim  as  he  hangs  upon  the  cross,  with  hands  and  feet  and 
side  all  pierced,  as  every  wound  is  gaping  wide  with  misery 
extreme.  There  can  be  no  hope  for  mercy  apart  from  the 
victim  offered — even  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God.  Oh !  come, 
let  us  one  and  all  approach  the  mercy-seat,  and  plead  the  blood. 
Let  us  each  go  and  say,  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  ;  but  have 
mercy  upon  me,  through  thy  Son."  Come,  drunkard,  give 
me  thy  hand  ;  we  will  go  together.  Harlot,  give  me  thy  hand 
too  ;  and  let  us  likewise  approach  the  throne.  And  you,  pro- 
fessing Christians,  come  ye  also,  be  not  ashamed  of  your  com- 


158  CONPESSIOX   AND   ABSOLUTION". 

pnny.  Let  us  come  before  his  presence  with  many  tears,  none 
of  us  accusing  our  fellows,  but  each  one  accusing  himself;  and 
let  us  plead  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  speaketh  peace 
and  pardon  to  every  troubled  conscience. 

Careless  man,  I  have  a  word  with  thee  before  I  have  done 
on  this  point.  You  say,  "  Well,  that  is  a  good  prayer,  cer- 
tainly, for  a  man  who  is  dying.  When  a  poor  fellow  has  the 
cholera,  and  sees  black  death  staring  him  in  the  face,  or  when 
he  is  terrified  and  thunderstruck  in  the  time  of  storm,  or  when 
he  finds  himself  amid  the  terrible  confusion  and  alarm  of  a 
perilous  catastrophe  or  a  sudden  accident,  while  drawing  near 
to  the  gates  of  death,  it  is  only  right  that  he  should  say, 
'Lord  have  mercy  upon  me.'  "  Ah,  friend,  the  prayer  must 
be  suitable  to  you  then,  if  you  are  a  dying  man  ;  it  must  be 
suitable  to  you,  for  you  know  not  how  near  you  are  to'the  bor- 
ders of  the  grave.  Oh,  if  thou  didst  but  fully  understand  the 
frailty  of  life,  and  the  slipperiness  of  that  poor  prop  on  which 
thou  art  resting,  thou  wouldst  say,  "  Alas  for  my  soul !  if  the 
prayer  will  suit  me  dying,  it  must  suit  ine  now ;  for  I  am  dy- 
ing, even  this  day,  and  know  not  when  I  may  come  to  the 
last  gasp."  "  O,"  says  one,  "  I  think  it  will  suit  a  man  that  has 
been  a  very  great  sinner."  Correct,  my  friend,  and  therefore, 
if  you  knew  yourself,  it  would  suit  you.  You  are  quite  correct 
in  saying  that  it  won't  suit  any  but  great  sinners ;  and  if  you 
do  n't  feel  yourself  to  be  a  great  sinner,  I  know  you  will  never 
l^ray  it.  But  there  are  some  here  that  feel  themselves  to  be  what 
you  ought  to  feel  and  know  that  you  are.  Such  will,  constrained 
by  grace,  use  the  prayer  with  an  emphasis  this  morning,  put- 
ting a  tear  upon  each  letter,  and  a  sigh  upon  each  syllable,  as 
they  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  But  mark,  my 
friend;  thou  mayest  smile  contemptuously  on  the  man  that 
makes  this  confession,  but  he  shall  go  from  this  house  justified 
while  thou  shalt  go  away  still  in  thy  sins,  without  a  hope, 
without  a  ray  of  joy  to  cheer  thy  unchastened  spirit. 

II.  Having  thus  briefly  described  this  confession,  I  come 
more  briefly  still  to  notice  the  absoltjtion  which  God  gave. 
Absolution  from  the  lips  of  man  I  do  believe  is  little  short 
of  blasphemy.     There  is  in  the  Prayer-book  of  the  Church  of 


CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION.  159 

England  an  absolution  -vvhicb  is  essentially  Popish,  which  I 
should  think  must  be  almost  a  verbatim  extract  from  the  Rom- 
ish missal.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  there  was  never 
any  thhig  more  blasphemous  printed  in  Holywell  street  than 
the  absolution  that  is  to  be  pronounced  by  a  clergyman  over 
a  dying  man  ;  and  it  is  positively  frightful  to  think  that  any 
persons  calling  themselves  Christians  should  rest  easy  in  a 
church  until  they  have  done  their  utmost  to  get  that  most  ex 
cellent  book  tlioroughly  reformed  and  revised,  and  to  get  the 
Popery  purged  out  of  it.  But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  abso- 
lution, my  friends,  and  the  publican  received  it.  "  He  went 
to  his  house  justified  rather  than  the  other."  The  other  had 
nought  of  peace  revealed  to  his  heart ;  this  poor  man  had  all, 
and  he  went  to  his  house  justified.  It  does  not  say  that  he 
went  to  his  house,  having  eased  his  mind  ;  that  is  true,  but 
more:  he  went  to  his  house  "justified."  What  does  that 
mean  ?  It  so  happens  that  the  Greek  word  here  used  is  the 
one  which  the  apostle  Paul  always  employs  to  set  out  the 
great  doctrine  of  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ — even  the 
righteousness  which  is  of  God  by  faith.  The  fact  is,  that  the 
moment  the  man  prayed  the  prayer,  every  sin  he  had  ever 
done  was  blotted  out  of  God's  book,  so  that  it  did  not  stand 
on  the  record  against  him  ;  and  more,  the  moment  that  prayer 
was  heard  in  heaven,  the  man  was  reckoned  to  be  a  right- 
eous man.  All  that  Christ  did  for  him  was  cast  about  his 
shoulders  to  be  the  robe  of  his  beauty,  that  moment  all  the 
guilt  that  he  had  ever  committed  himself  was  washed  entirely 
away  and  lost  for  ever.  When  a  sinner  believes  in  Christ,  his 
sins  positively  cease  to  be,  and  what  is  more  wonderful,  they 
all  cease  to  be,  as  Kent  says  in  those  well-known  lines — 

"  Hero's  pardon  for  transgressions  past, 
It  matters  not  how  black  their  cast 
And,  0  ray  soul  with  wonder  view, 
For  sins  to  come  here's  pardon  too." 

They  are  all  swept  away  in  one  solitary  instant ;  the  crimes  of 
many  years — extortions,  adulteries,  or  even  murder,  wiped 
away  in  an  instant ;  for  you  will  notice  the  absolution  was  in- 


100  CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION. 

stantaneously  given.  God  did  not  say  to  the  man — "Now 
you  must  go  and'  perform  some  good  works,  and  then  I  will 
give  you  absolution."  He  did  not  say  as  the  Pope  does, 
"  !N"ow  you  must  swelter  awhile  in  the  fires  of  Purgatory,  and 
then  I  will  let  you  out."  ISTo,  he  justified  him  there  and  then ; 
the  pardon  was.given  as  soon  as  the  sin  was  confessed.  "  Go, 
my  son,  in  peace  ;  I  have  not  a  charge  against  thee ;  thou  art 
a  sinner  in  thine  own  estimation,  but  thou  art  none  in  mine  ; 
I  have  taken  all  thy  sins  away,  and  cast  them  into  the  depth 
of  the  sea,  and  they  shall  be  mentioned  against  thee  no  more 
for  ever."  Can  you  tell  what  a  happy  man  the  publican  was, 
w^hen  all  in  a  moment  he  was  changed  ?  If  you  may  reverse 
the  figure  used  by  Milton,  he  seemed  himself  to  have  been  a 
loathsome  toad,  but  the  touch  of  the  Father's  mercy  made 
him  rise  to  angelic  brightness  and  delight ;  and  he  went  out 
of  that  house  with  his  eye  upward,  no  longer  afraid.  Instead 
of  the  groan  that  was  on  his  heart,  he  had  a  song  upon  his  Up. 
He  no  longer  walked  alone ;  he  sought  out  the  godly  and  he 
said,  "  Come  and  hear,  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  tell  you 
what  he  has  done  for  my  soul."  He  did  not  smite  upon  his 
breast,  but  he  went  home  to  get  down  his  harp,  and  play  upon 
the  strings,  and  praise  his  God.  You  would  not  have  known 
that  he  was  the  same  man,  if  you  had  seen  him  going  out ; 
and  all  that  was  done  in  a  minute.  "  But,"  says  one,  "  do  you 
think  he  knew  for  certain  that  all  his  sins  were  forgiven  ?  Can 
a  man  know  that  ?"  Certainly  he  can.  And  there  be  some 
here  that  can  bear  witness  that  this  is  true.  They  have  known 
it  themselves.  The  pardon  which  is  sealed  in  heaven  is  re- 
sealed  in  our  own  conscience.  The  mercy  which  is  recorded 
above  is  made  to  shed  its  light  into  the  darkness  of  our  hearts. 
Yes,  a  man  may  know  on  earth  that  his  sins  are  forgiven,  and 
may  be  as  sure  that  he  is  a  pardoned  man  as  he  is  of  his  own 
existence.  And  now  I  hear  a  cry  from  some  one  saying, 
"  And  may  I  be  pardoned  this  morning  ?  and  may  I  know  that 
I  am  pardoned  ?  May  I  be  so  pardoned  that  all  shall  be  for- 
gotten— I  who  have  been  a  drunkard,  a  swearer,  or  what  not  ? 
May  I  have  all  my  transgressions  washed  away  ?  May  I  be 
made  sure  of  heaven,  and  all  that  in  a  moment  V"     Yes,  my 


CONFESSION"   AND   ABSOLUTION.  161 

friend,  if  thou  believest  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Chris^t,  if  thou  wilt 
stand  where  thou  art,  and  just  breathe  this  prayer  out,  "  Lord, 
have  mercy !  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  through  the 
blood  of  Christ."  I  tell  thee  man,  God  never  did  deny  that 
prayer  yet ;  if  it  came  out  of  honest  lips  he  never  shut  the 
gates  of  mercy  on  it.  It  is  a  solemn  litany  that  shall  be  used 
as  long  as  time  shall  last,  and  it  shall  pierce  the  ears  of  God  as 
long  as  there  is  a  sinner  to  use  it.  Come,  be  not  afraid,  I  be- 
seech you,  use  the  prayer  before  you  leave  this  hall.  Stand 
where  you  are ;  endeavor  to  realize  that  you  are  alone,  and  if 
you  feel  that  you  are  guilty,  now  let  the  prayer  ascend.  Oh, 
what  a  marvelous  thing,  if  from,  the  thouHmds  of  hearts  here 
present,  so  many  thousand  prayers  might  go  up  to  God  ! 
Surely  the  angels  themselves  never  had  such  a  day  in  Paradise, 
as  they  would  have  to-day,  if  every  one  of  us  could  unfeign- 
edly  make  that  confession.  Some  are  doing  it ;  I  know  they 
are ;  God  is  helping  them.  And  sinner,  do  you  stay  away  ? 
You,  who  have  most  need  to  come,  do  you  refuse  to  join  with 
us  ?  Come,  brother,  come.  You  say  you  are  too  vile.  No, 
brother,  you  can  not  be  too  vile  to  say,  "God  be  merciful  to 
me."  Perhaps  you  are  no  viler  than  we  are  ;  at  any  rate,  this 
we  can  say — we  feel  ourselves  to  be  viler  than  you,  and  we 
want  you  to  pray  the  same  prayer  that  we  have  prayed.  "  Ah," 
says  one,  "  I  can  not ;  my  heart  won't  yield  to  that ;  I  can  not." 
But  friend,  if  God  is  ready  to  have  mercy  upon  thee,  thine 
must  be  a  hard  heart,  if  it  is  not  ready  to  receive  his  mercy. 
Spirit  of  God,  breathe  on  the  hard  heart,  and  melt  it  now ! 
Help  the  man  who  feels  that  carelessness  is  overcoming  him — 
help  him  to  get  rid  of  it  from  this  hour.  You  are  struggling 
against  it ;  you  are  saying,  "  Would  to  God  I  could  pray,  th:it 
I  could  go  back  to  be  a  boy  or  a  child  again,  and  then  I  could  ; 
but  I  have  got  hardened  and  grown  gray  in  sin,  and  j^rayer 
would  be  hypocrisy  in  me."  No,  brother,  no,  it  would  not. 
If  thou  canst  but  cry  it  from  thy  heart,  I  beseech  thee  say  it. 
Many  a  man  thinks  he  is  a  hypocrite,  when  he  is  not,  and  is 
afraid  that  he  is  not  sincere,  when  his  very  fear  is  a  proof  of 
his  sincerity.  "But,"  says  one,  "I  have  no  redeeming  trait  ia 
my  character  at  all."     I  am  glad  you  think  so  ;  still  you  may 


162  CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION. 

use  the  prayer,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me."  "  But  it  will  be  a 
useless  prayer,"  says  one.  My  brother,  I  assure  thee,  not  in 
my  own  name,  but  in  the  name  of  God,  my  Father  and  your 
Father,  it  shall  not  be  a  useless  prayer.  As  sure  as  God  is 
God,  him  that  cometh  unto  Christ  he  Avill  in  no  wise  cast  out. 
Come  with  me  now,  I  beseech  thee ;  tarry  no  longer ;  the 
bowels  of  God  are  yearning  over  thee.  Thou  art  his  child,  and 
he  will  not  give  thee  up.  Thou  hast  run  from  him  these  many 
years,  but  he  has  never  forgotten  thee ;  thou  hast  resisted  all 
his  warnings  until  now,  and  he  is  almost  weary,  but  still  he 
has  said  concerning  thee,  "How  shall  I  make  thee  as  Admah  ; 
how  shall  I  set  thee  as  Zeboim  ?  Mine  heart  is  turned  within 
me,  my  repentings  are  kindled  together." 

"  Come  humbled  sinner,  in  whose  breast 
A  thousand  thoughts  revolve ; 
Come  with  thy  guilt  and  fear  oppressed, 
And  make  this  last  resolve : 

I'll  go  to  Jesus,  though  my  sin 

Hath  like  a  mountain  rose ; 
I  know  his  courts ;  I'll  enter  in, 

Whatever  may  oppose. 

Prostrate  I'll  he  before  his  face, 

And  there  my  sins  confess ; 
I'll  tell  him  I'm  a  wretch  undone, 

Without  his  sovereign  grace," 

Go  home  to  your  houses ;  let  every  one — preacher,  deacon, 
people,  ye  of  the  church,  and  ye  of  the  world,  every  one  of 
you,  go  home,  and  ere  you  feast  your  bodies,  pour  out  your 
hearts  before  God,  and  let  this  one  cry  go  up  from  all  our  lips, 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 

I  pause.     Bear  with  me. 

I  must  detain  you  a  few  moments.  Let  us  use  this  prayer 
as  our  own  now.  Oh  that  it  might  come  up  before  the  Lord 
at  this  time  as  the  earnest  supplication  of  every  heart  in  this 
assembly  !  I  will  repeat  it — not  as  a  text,  but  as  a  prayer — as 
my  own  prayer ;  as  your  prayer.    Will  each  one  of  you  take  it 


CONFESSION    AND   ABSOLUTION.  163 

personally  for  himself?  Let  every  one,  I  entreat  yon,  who 
desires  to  offer  the  prayer,  and  can  join  in  it,  utter  at  its  close 
an  audible  "  Amen." 

Let  us  pray. 

"GOD-BE-MERCIFUL-TO-ME-A-SINNER." 

\And  the  people  did  with  deep  solemnity  say]      "  AMEN.' 


SERMON    X. 

DECLENSION  FROM  FIRST  LOVE. 

"  Nevertheless  I  have  somewhat  against  thee,  because  thou  hast  left  thy 
first  love." — Revelation,  ii.  4. 

It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  as  mucli  said  in  our  commenda- 
tion as  was  said  concerning  the  church  at  Ephesus.  Just  read 
what  "  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  faithful  witness,"  said  of  them 
— "I  know  thy  works,  and  thy  labor,  and  thy  patience,  and 
how  thou  canst  not  bear  them  which  are  evil :  and  thou  hast 
tried  them  which  say  they  are  apostles,  and  are  not,  and  hast 
found  them  liars:  and  hast  borne,  and  hast  patience,  and  for 
my  name's  sake  hast  labored,  and  hast  not  fainted."  Oh,  my 
dear  brothers  and  sisters,  we  may  feel  devoutly  thankful  if 
we  can  humbly,  but  honestly  say,  that  this  commendation  ap- 
plies to  us.  Happy  the  man  whose  works  are  known  and  ac- 
cepted of  Christ.  He  is  no  idle  Christian,  he  has  practical 
godliness ;  he  seeks  by  works  of  piety  to  obey  God's  whole 
law,  by  works  of  charity  to  manifest  his  love  to  the  brother- 
hood, and  by  works  of  devotion  to  show  his  attachment  to 
the  cause  of  his  Master.  "  I  know  thy  works."  Alas !  some 
of  you  can  not  get  so  far  as  that.  Jesus  Christ  himself  can 
bear  no  witness  to  your  works,  for  you  have  not  done  any. 
You  are  Christians  by  profession,  but  you  are  not  Christians 
as  to  your  practice.  I  say  again,  happy  is  that  man  to  whom 
Chi'ist  can  say,  "  I  know  thy  works."  It  is  a  commendation 
worth  a  world  to  have  as  much  as  that  said  of  us.  But  fur- 
ther, Christ  said,  "  and  thy  labor."  This  is  more  still.  Many 
Christians  have  works,  but  only  few  Christians  have  labor. 
There  were  many  preachei'S  in  Whitfield's  day  that  had  woiks, 
but  Whitfield  had  labor.  He  toiled  and  travailed  for  souls. 
He  was  "  in  labors  more  abundant."     Many  were  they  in  the 


DECa:.ENSION   FROM   FIRST   LOVE.  1G6 

apostles'  days  who  did  works  for  Christ;  but  preeminently 
the  apostle  Paul  did  labor  for  souls.  It  is  not  work  merely, 
it  is  anxious  work ;  it  is  casting  forth  the  whole  strength,  and 
exercising  all  the  energies  for  Christ.  Could  the  Lord  Jesus 
say  as  much  as  that  of  you — "  I  know  thy  labor  ?"  No.  He 
might  say,  "I  know  thy  loitering;  I  know  thy  laziness;  I 
know  thy  shirking  of  the  work ;  I  know  thy  boasting  of  what 
little  thou  dost ;  I  know  thine  ambition  to  be  thought  some- 
thing of,  when  thou  art  nothing."  But  ah  !  friends,  it  is  more 
than  most  of  us  dare  to  hope  that  Christ  could  say,  "  I  know 
thy  labor." 

But  further,  Christ  says,  "I  know  thy  patience."  !N'ow 
there  be  some  that  labor,  and  they  do  it  well.  But  what  does 
hinder  them  ?  They  only  labor  for  a  little  season,  and  then 
they  cease  to  work  and  begin  to  faint.  But  this  church  had 
labored  on  for  many  years ;  it  had  thrown  out  all  its  energies 
— not  in  some  spasmodic  eftbrt,  but  in  a  continual  strain  and 
unabated  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God.  "  I  know  thy  patience." 
I  say  again,  beloved,  I  tremble  to  think  how  few  out  of  this  con- 
gi-egation  could  win  such  praise  as  this.  "  I  know  thy  works, 
and  thy  labors,  and  thy  patience,  and  how  thou  canst  not  bear 
them  which  are  evil."  The  thorough  hatred  which  the  church 
had  of  evil  doctrine,  of  evil  practice,  and  its  corresponding 
intense  love  for  pure  truth  and  pure  practice — in  that,  I  trust, 
some  of  us  can  bear  a  part.  "And  thou  hast  tried  them 
which  say  they  are  apostles,  and  are  not,  and  hast  found  them 
liars."  Here,  too,  I  think,  some  of  us  may  hope  to  be  clear. 
I  know  the  difference  between  truth  and  error.  Arminian- 
isra  will  never  go  down  with  us ;  the  doctrine  of  men  will 
not  suit  our  taste.  The  husk,  the  bran,  and  the  chaff,  are  not 
things  that  we  can  feed  upon.  And  when  we  listen  to  those 
who  preach  another  gospel,  a  holy  anger  burns  within  us,  for 
we  love  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus ;  and  nothing  but  that  will 
satisfy  us.  "  And  hast  borne,  and  hast  patience,  and  for  my 
name's  sake  hast  labored,  and  hast  not  fainted."  They  had 
borne  persecutions,  difficulties,  hardships,  embarrassments,  and 
discouragements  yet  had  they  never  flagged,  but  always  con- 
tinued faithful.     Who  among  us  here  present  could  lay  claim 


k 


166  DECLENSION  FEOM   FIRST  LOTE. 

to  SO  much  praise  as  this  ?  What  Sunday  School  teacher  have 
I  here  who  could  say,  "  I  have  labored,  and  I  have  borne,  and 
have  had  patience,  and  have  not  fainted  ?"  Ah,  dear  friends, 
if  you  can  say  it,  it  is  more  than  I  can.  Ofcen  have  I  been 
ready  to  faint  in  tiie  Master's  work ;  and  though  I  trust  I  have 
not  been  tired  of  it,  yet  there  has  been  sometimes  a  longing 
to  get  from  the  work  to  the  reward,  and  to  go  from  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  before  I  had  fulfilled,  as  a  hierling,  my  day.  I 
am  afraid  we  have  not  enough  of  patience,  enough  of  labor, 
and  enough  of  good  works,  to  get  even  as  much  as  this  said 
of  us.  But  it  is  in  our  text,  I  fear  the  mass  of  us  must  find 
our  character.  "  Nevertheless  I  have  somewhat  against  thee, 
because  thou  hast  left  thy  first  love."  There  may  be  a  preacher 
here  present.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  minister  who  had  to 
preach  his  own  funeral  sermon?  What  a  labor  that  must 
have  been,  to  feel  that  he  had  been  condemned  to  die,  and 
must  preach  against  himself,  and  condemn  himself!  I  stand 
here  to  night,  not  in  that  capacity,  but  in  one  somewhat  sim- 
ilar. I  feel  that  I  who  preach  shall  this  night  condemn  my- 
self; and  my  prayer  before  I  entered  this  pulpit  was,  that  I 
might  fearlessly  discharge  my  duty,  that  I  might  deal  honestly 
with  my  own  heart,  and  that  I  might  preach,  knowing  mysell 
to  be  the  chief  culprit,  and  you  each  in  your  measure  to  have 
oflfended  in  this  resjDect,  even  though  none  of  you  so  griev- 
ously as  I  have  done.  I  pray  that  God  the  Holy  Spirit, 
through  his  renewings,  may  apply  the  word,  not  merely  to 
your  hearts,  but  to  mine,  that  I  may  return  to  my  first  love, 
and  that  you  may  return  with  me. 

In  the  first  place,  lohat  was  our  first  love,  f  Secondly, 
how  did  we  lose  it  f  And  thirdly,  let  me  exhort  you  to  get.  it 
again. 

I.  First,  WHAT  WAS  OUR  FIRST  LOVE  ?  Oh,  let  us  go  back 
— it  is  not  many  years  with  some  of  us.  We  are  but  young- 
sters in  God's  way,  and  it  is  not  so  long  with  any  of  you  that 
you  will  have  very  great  difiiculyt  in  reckoning  it.  Then  if 
you  are  Christians,  those  days  were  so  happy  that  your  mem- 
ory will  never  forget  them,  and  therefore  you  can  easily  re- 
turn to  that  first  bright  spot  in  your  history.     Oh,  what  love 


DECLENSION    FROil   FIRST   LOVE.  167 

was  that  which  I  had  to  my  Saviour  the  first  time  he  forgave 
my  sins.  I  reinembor  it.  You  remember  each  for  youiselves, 
I  dare  say,  that  happy  hour  when  the  Lord  appeared  to  us, 
bleeding  on  his  cross,  when  he  seemed  to  say,  and  did  say  in 
our  hearts,  "I  am  thy  salvation ;  I  have  blotted  out  like  a  cloud 
thine  iniquities,  and  like  a  thick  cloud  thy  sins."  Oh,  how  I 
loved  him-!  Passing  all  loves  except  his  own  was  that  love 
which  I  felt  for  him  then.  If  beside  the  door  of  the  place  in 
which  I  met  with  him  there  had  been  a  stake  of  blazing  fagots, 
I  would  have  stood  upon  them  without  chains ;  glad  to  give  my 
flesh,  and  blood,  and  bones,  to  bo  ashes  that  should  testify  my 
love  to  him.  Had  he  asked  me  then  to  give  all  my  substance 
to  the  poor,  I  would  have  given  all  and  thought  myself  to  be 
amazingly  rich  in  having  beggared  myself  for  his  name's  sake. 
Had  he  commanded  me  then  to  preach  in  the  midst  of  all  his 
foes,  I  could  have  said, 

"  There's  not  a  lamb  amongst  thy  flock 
I  would  disdain  to  feed, 
There's  not  a  foe  before  whose  face 
I'd  fear  thy  cause  to  plead." 

I  could  realize  then  the  language  of  Rutherford,  when  he  said, 
being  full  of  love  to  Christ,  once  upon  a  time,  in  the  dungeon 
of  Aberdeen — "  Oh,  my  Lord,  if  there  were  a  broad  hell  be- 
twixt me  and  thee,  if  I  could  not  get  at  thee  except  by  wad- 
ing through  it,  I  would  not  think  twice  but  I  would  plunge 
through  it  all,  if  I  might  embrace  thee  and  call  thee  mine." 

Now  it  is  that  first  love  that  you  and  I  must  confess  I  am 
afraid  we  have  in  a  measure  lost.  Let  us  just  see  whether  we 
have  it.  When  we  first  loved  the  Saviour,  how  earnest  wo 
were  ;  there  was  not  a  single  thing  in  the  Bible,  that  we  did 
not  think  most  precious;  there  was  not  one  command  of  his 
that  we  did  not  think  to  be  like  fine  gold  and  choice  silver. 
Never  were  the  doors  of  his  house  open  without  our  being 
there :  if  there  were  a  prayer  meeting  at  any  liour  in  the  day 
we  were  there.  Some  said  of  us  that  we  had  no  patience,  wo 
would  do  too  much  and  expose  our  bodies  too  frequently — but 
we  never  thought  of  that.    "  Do  thyself  no  harm,"  was  spoken 


168  DECLENSION   FROM   FIRST   LOVE. 

in  our  ears;  "but  we  would  have  done  any  thing  then.  Why- 
there  are  some  of  you  who  can  not  walk  to  the  Music  Hall  on 
a  morning,  it  is  too  far.  When  you  first  joined  the  church, 
you  would  have  walked  twice  as  far.  There  are  some  of  you 
who  can  not  be  at  the  prayer  meeting — business  will  not  per- 
mit ;  yet  when  you  were  first  baptized,  there  was  never  a 
prayer  meeting  from  which  you  were  absent.  It  is  the  loss  of 
your  first  love  that  makes  you  seek  the  comfort  of  your  bodies 
instead  of  the  prosperity  of  your  souls.  Many  have  been  the 
young  Christians  who  have  joined  this  church,  and  old  ones 
too,  and  I  have  said  to  them,  "  Well,  have  you  got  a  ticket 
for  a  seat  ?"  "  No,  sir."  "  Well,  what  will  you  do  ?  Have 
you  got  a  preference  ticket  ?"  "  No,  I  can  not  get  one  ;  but 
I  do  not  mind  standing  in  the  crowd  an  hour,  or  two  hours.  I 
will  come  at  five  o'clock  so  that  I  can  get  in.  Sometimes  I 
do  n't  get  in,  sir  ;  but  even  then  I  feel  that  I  have  done  what 
I  ought  to  do  in  attempting  to  get  in."  "  Well,"  but  I  have 
said,  "  you  live  five  miles  off",  and  there  is  coming  and  going 
back  twice  a  day — you  can  not  do  it."  "  Oh,  sir,"  they  have 
said,  "  I  can  do  it ;  I  feel  so  much  the  blessedness  of  the  Sab- 
bath and  so  much  enjoyment  of  the  presence  of  the  Saviour." 
I  have  smiled  at  them  ;  I  could  understand  it,  but  I  have  not 
felt  it  necessary  to  caution  them — and  now  their  love  is  cool 
enough.  That  first  love  does  not  last  half  so  long  as  we  could 
wish.  Some  of  you  stand  convicted  even  here  ;  you  have  not 
that  blazing  love,  that  burning  love,  that  ridiculous  love  as  the 
worldling  would  call  it,  which  is  after  all  the  love  to  be  most 
coveted  and  desired.  No,  you  have  lost  your  first  love  in  that 
respect.  Again,  how  obedient  you  used  to  be.  If  you  saw  a 
commandment,  that  was  enough  for  you — you  did  it.  But 
now  you  see  a  commandment,  and  you  see  profit  on  the  other 
side ;  and  how  often  do  you  dally  with  the  profit  and  choose 
the  temptation,  instead  of  yielding  an  unsullied  obedience  to 
Christ. 

Again,  how  happy  you  used  to  be  in  the  ways  of  God.  Your 
love  was  of  that  happy  character  that  you  could  sing  all  day 
long ;  but  now  your  religion  has  lost  its  luster,  the  gold  has 
become  dim  ;  you  know  that  when  you  come  to  the  sacramental 


DECLENSION   FROM   FIRST   LOVE.  169 

table,  you  very  often  come  there  without  enjoying  it.  There 
was  a  time  when  every  bitter  thing  was  sweet ;  whenever  you 
heard  the  Word,  it  was  all  precious  to  you.  Now  you  can 
grumble  at  the  minister.  Alas  !  the  minister  has  many  faults, 
but  the  question  is,  whether  there  has  not  been  a  greater 
change  in  you  than  there  has  been  in  him.  Many  there  are 
who  say,  "  I  do  not  hear  Mr.  So-and-So  as  I  used  to" — when 
the  fault  lies  in  their  own  ears.  Oh,  brethren,  when  we  live 
near  to  Christ,  and  are  in  our  first  love,  it  is  amazing  what  a 
little  it  takes  to  make  a  good  preacher  to  us.  Why,  I  confess 
I  have  heard  a  poor  illiterate  Primitive  Methodist  preach  the 
gospel,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  could  jump  for  joy  all  the  while  I  was 
listening  to  him,  and  yet  he  never  gave  me  a  new  thought  or 
a  pretty  expression,  nor  one  figure  that  I  could  remember,  but 
he  talked  about  Christ;  and  even  his  common  things  were  to  my 
hungry  spirit  like  dainty  meats.  And  I  have  to  acknowledge, 
and,  perhaps,  you  all  have  to  acknowledge  the  same — that  I 
have  heard  sermons  from  which  I  ought  to  have  profited,  but  I 
have  been  thinking  of  the  man's  style,  or  some  little  mistakes 
in  grammar.  When  I  might  have  been  holding  fellowship 
with  Christ  in  and  through  the  ministry,  I  have,  instead  there- 
of, been  getting  abroad  in  my  thoughts  even  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth.  And  what  is  the  reason  of  this,  but  that  I  have 
lost  my  first  love  ? 

Again  :  when  we  were  in  our  first  love,  what  would  we  do 
for  Christ ;  now  how  little  will  we  do.  Some  of  the  actions 
which  we  performed  when  we  were  young  Christians,  but  just 
converted,  when  we  look  back  upon  them,  seem  to  have  been 
wild  and  like  idle  tales.  You  remember  when  you  were  a  lad 
and  first  came  to  Christ,  you  had  a  half  sovereign  in  your 
pocket  ;  it  was  the  only  one  you  had,  and  yet  you  met  with 
some  poor  saint  and  gave  it  all  away.  You  did  not  regret  that 
you  had  done  it,  your  only  regret  was  that  you  had  not  a  great 
deal  more,  for  you  would  have  given  all.  You  recollected  that 
something  was  wanted  for  the  cause  of  Christ.  Oh  !  we  could 
give  any  thing  away  when  we  first  loved  the  Saviour.  If  there 
was  a  preacliing  to  be  held  five  miles  off",  and  we  could  walk 
with  the  lay-preacher  to  be  a  little  comfort  to  him  in  the  dark- 

8 


170  DECLENSION   FEOM   FIRST  LOVE. 

ness,  we  were  off.  If  there  was  a  Sunday  School,  however 
early  it  might  be,  we  would  be  up,  so  that  we  might  be  pres- 
ent. Unheard  of  feats,  things  that  we  now  look  back  upon 
with  surprise,  we  could  perform  then.  Why  can  not  we  do 
them  now  ?  Do  you  know  there  are  some  people  who  always 
live  upon  what  they  have  been.  I  speak  very  plainly  now. 
There  is  a  brother  in  this  church  who  may  take  it  to  himself; 
I  hojDe  he  will.  It  is  not  very  many  years  ago  since  he  said  to 
me,  when  I  asked  him  why  he  did  not  do  something — "  Well, 
I  have  done  my  share ;  I  used  to  do  this,  and  I  have  done  the 
other ;  I  have  done  so-and-so."  Oh,  may  the  Lord  deliver 
him,  and  all  of  us,  from  living  on  "  has  beens  !"  It  will  never 
do  to  say  we  have  done  a  thing.  Suppose,  for  a  solitary  mo- 
ment, the  world  should  say,  "  I  have  turned  round ;  I  will 
stand  still."  Let  the  sea  say,  "I  have  been  ebbing  and  flow- 
ing, lo !  these  many  years  ;  I  will  ebb  and  flow  no  more."  Let 
the  sun  say,  "  I  have  been  shining,  and  I  have  been  rising  and 
setting  so  many  days;  I  have  done  this  enough  to  earn  me  a 
goodly  name ;  I  will  stand  still ;"  and  let  the  moon  wrap  her- 
self up  in  vails  of  darkness,  and  say,  "  I  have  illuminated 
many  a  night,  and  I  have  lighted  many  a  weary  traveler  across 
the  moors;  I  will  shut  up  my  lamp  and  be  dark  for  ever." 
Brethren,  when  you  and  I  cease  to  labor,  let  us  cease  to  live. 
God  has  no  intention  to  let  us  live  a  useless  life.  But  mark 
this ;  when  we  leave  our  first  works,  there  is  no  question  about 
our  having  lost  our  first  love ;  that  is  sure.  If  there  be  strength 
remaining,  if  there  be  still  power,  mentally  and  physically,  if 
we  cease  from  our  ofiice,  if  we  abstain  from  our  labors,  there 
is  no  solution  of  this  question  which  an  honest  conscience  will 
accept,  except  this,  "  Thou  hast  lost  thy  first  love,  and,  there- 
fore, thou  hast  neglected  thy  first  works."  Ah  !  we  were  all 
so  very  ready  to  make  excuse  for  ourselves.  Many  a  preacher 
has  retired  from  the  ministry,  long  before  he  had  any  need  to 
do  so.  He  has  married  a  rich  wife.  Somebody  has  lefl  him  a 
little  money,  and  he  can  do  without  it.  He  was  growing 
weak  in  the  ways  of  God,  or  else  he  would  have  said, 

"  My  body  with  my  charge  lay  down, 
And  cease  at  once  to  work  and  live." 


DECLENSION  FROM   FIRST  LOVE.  171 

And  let  any  man  here  present  who  was  a  Sunday  School  teacher 
and  who  has  left  it,  who  was  a  tract  distributor  and  who  has 
given  it  up,  who  was  active  in  the  way  of  God  but  is  now  idle, 
stand  to-night  before  the  bar  of  his  conscience,  and  say  whether 
he  be  not  guilty  of  this  charge  which  I  bring  against  him,  that 
he  has  lost  his  first  love. 

I  need  not  stop  to  say  also,  that  this  may  be  detected  in  the 
closet  as  well  as  in  our  daily  life ;  for  when  the  first  love  is 
lost,  there  is  a  want  of  that  prayerfulness  which  we  have.  I 
remember  the  day  I  was  baptized,  I  was  up  at  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  Till  six,  I  spent  in  prayer,  wrestling  with  God. 
Then  I  had  to  walk  some  eight  miles,  and  started  off  and 
walked  to  the  baptism.  Why,  prayer  was  a  delight  to  me 
then.  My  duties  at  that  time  kept  me  occupied  pretty  well 
from  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  ten  at  night,  and  I  had 
not  a  moment  for  retirement,  yet  I  would  be  up  at  four  o'clock 
to  pray  ;  and  though  I  feel  very  sleepy  now-a-days,  and  I  feel 
that  I  could  not  be  up  to  pray,  it  was  not  so  then,  when  I  was 
in  my  first  love.  Somehow  or  other,  I  never  lacked  time  then. 
If  I  did  not  get  it  early  in  the  morning,  I  got  it  late  at  night. 
I  was  compelled  to  have  time  for  prayer  with  God  ;  and  what 
prayer  it  was  !  I  had  no  need  then  to  groan  because  I  could 
not  pray ;  for  love,  being  fervent,  I  had  sweet  liberty  at  the 
throne  of  grace.  But  when  first  love  departs,  we  begin  to 
think  that  ten  minutes  will  do  for  prayer,  instead  of  an  hour, 
and  we  read  a  verse  or  two  in  the  morning,  whereas  we  used 
to  read  a  portion,  but  never  used  to  go  into  the  world  with- 
out getting  some  marrow  and  fatness.  Now,  business  has  so 
increased,  that  we  must  get  into  bed  as  soon  as  we  can  ;  we 
have  not  time  to  pray.  And  then  at  dinner  time  we  used  to 
have  a  little  time  for  communion  ;  that  is  dropped.  And  then 
on  the  Sabbath  day,  we  used  to  make  it  a  custom  to  pray  to 
God  when  we  got  home  from  his  house,  for  just  five  miimtes 
before  dinner,  so  that  what  we  heard  we  might  profit  by ;  that 
is  dropped.  And  some  of  you  that  are  present  were  in  the 
habit  of  retiring  for  prayer  when  you  went  home  ;  your  wives 
have  told  that  story ;  the  messengers  have  heard  it  when  they 
have  called  at  your  houses,  when  they  have  asked  the  wife — 


172  DECLENSION   PROM   FIRST  LOVE. 

"Where  is  your  husband?"  "Ah!"  she  has  said,  "he  is  a 
godly  man ;  he  can  not  come  home  to  his  breakfast  but  he 
must  slip  up-stairs  alone.  I  know  what  he  is  doing— ^he  is 
praying."  Then  when  he  is  at  table,  he  often  says — "  Mary,  I 
have  had  a  difficulty  to-day,  we  must  go  and  have  a  word  or 
two  of  prayer  together."  And  some  of  you  could  not  take  a 
walk  without  a  prayer  ;  you  were  so  fond  of  it  you  could  not 
have  too  much  of  it.  Now  where  is  it  ?  You  know  more 
than  you  did  ;  you  have  grown  older ;  you  have  grown  richer, 
perhaps.  You  have  grown  wiser  in  some  respects ;  but  you 
might  give  up  all  you  have  got,  to  go  back  to 

"  Those  peaceful  hours  you  once  enjoyed, 
How  sweet  their  memory  still  1" 

Oh,  what  would  you  give  if  you  could  fill 

"  That  aching  void 
The  world  can  never  fill," 

but  which  only  the  same  love  that  you  had  at  first,  can  ever 
fully  satisfy ! 

II.  And  now,  beloved,  where  did  you  and  I  lose  our 
FIRST  LOVE,  if  we  havc  lost  it  ?  Let  each  one  speak  for  him- 
self, or  rather  let  me  speak  for  each. 

Have  you  not  lost  your  first  love  in  the  world,  some  of  you  ? 
You  used  to  have  that  little  shop  once,  you  had  not  very  much 
business ;  well,  you  had  enough,  and  a  little  to  spare.  How- 
ever, there  was  a  good  turn  came  in  business ;  you  took  two 
shops,  and  you  are  getting  on  very  well.  Is  it  not  marvelous, 
that  when  you  grew  richer  and  had  more  business,  you  began 
to  have  less  grace  ? 

Oh,  friends,  it  is  a  very  serious  thing  to  grow  rich  !  Of  all 
the  temptations  to  which  God's  children  are  exposed  it  is  the 
worst,  because  it  is  one  that  they  do  not  dread,  and  therefore 
it  is  the  more  subtle  temptation.  You  know  a  traveler,  if  he 
is  going  a  journey,  takes  a  staff  with  him,  it  is  a  help  to  him ; 
but  suppose  he  is  covetous,  and  says,  "  I  will  have  a  hundred 
of  these  sticks,"  that  will  be  no  help  to  him  at  all ;  he  has  only 
got  a  load  to  carry,  and  it  stops  his  progress  instead  of  assist 


DECLENSION  FROM  FIRST  LOVE.  1Y8 

ing  him.  But  I  do  believe  that  there  are  many  Christians 
that  lived  near  to  God,  when  they  were  living  on  a  pound  a 
week,  that  might  give  up  their  yearly  incomes  with  the  great- 
est joy,  if  they  could  have  now  the  same  contentment,  the 
same  peace  of  mind,  the  same  nearness  of  access  to  God,  that 
they  had  in  times  of  poverty.  Ah,  too  much  of  the  world  is 
a  bad  thing  for  any  man !  I  question  very  much  whether  a 
man  ought  not  sometimes  to  stop,  and  say,  "  There  is  an  op- 
portunity of  doing  more  trade,  but  it  will  require  the  whole 
of  my  time,  and  I  must  give  up  that  hour  I  have  set  apart  for 
prayer;  I  will  not  do  the  trade  at  all;  I  have  enough,  and 
therefore  let  it  go.  I  w^ould  rather  do  trade  with  heaven  than 
trade  with  earth." 

Again :  do  you  not  think  also  that  perhaps  you  may  have 
lost  your  first  love  by  getting  too  much  with  worldly  people  ? 
When  you  were  in  your  first  love,  no  company  suited  you  but 
the  godly ;  but  now  you  have  got  a  young  man  that  you  talk 
with,  who  talks  a  great  deal  more  about  frivolity,  and  gives 
you  a  great  deal  more  of  the  froth  and  scum  of  levity,  than 
he  ever  gives  you  of  solid  godliness.  Once  you  were  sur- 
rounded by  those  that  fear  the  Lord,  but  now  you  dwell  in  the 
tents  of  "Freedom,"  where  you  hear  little  but  cursing.  But, 
friends,  he  that  carrieth  coals  in  his  bosom  must  be  burned ; 
and  he  that  hath  ill  companions  can  not  but  be  injured.  Seek, 
then,  to  have  godly  friends,  that  thou  mayest  maintain  thy 
first  love. 

But  another  reason  Do  you  not  think  that  perhaps  you 
have  forgotten  how  much  you  owe  to  Christ  ?  There  is  one 
thing  that  I  feel  from  experience  I  am  compelled  to  do  very 
often,  viz.,  to  go  back  to  where  I  first  started  : — 

"  I,  the  chief  of  sinners  am, 
But  Jesus  died  for  me." 

You  and  I  get  talking  about  our  being  samts ;  we  know  our 
election,  we  rejoice  in  our  calling,  we  go  on  to  sanctification ; 
and  we  forget  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  we  were  digged. 
Ah,  remember  my  brother,  thou  art  nothing  now  but  a  sinner 
saved  through  grace ;  remember  what  thou  wouldst  have  been, 


174  DECLENSION   FEOM   FIRST  LOYE. 

if  the  Lord  had  left  thee.  And  surely,  then,  by  going  back 
continually  to  first  principles,  and  to  the  great  foundation 
stone,  the  cross  of  Christ,  thou  wilt  be  led  to  go  back  to  thy 
first  love. 

Dost  thou  not  think,  again,  that  thou  hast  lost  thy  first 
love  by  neglecting  communion  with  Christ?  Now  preacher, 
preach  honestly,  and  preach  at  thyself.  Has  there  not  been, 
sometimes,  this  temptation  to  do  a  great  deal  for  Christ  but 
not  to  live  a  great  deal  with  Christ?  One  of  my  beset- 
ting sins,  I  feel,  is  this.  If  there  is  any  thing  to  be  done 
actively  for  Christ,  I  instinctively  prefer  the  active  exercise 
to  the  passive  quiet  of  his  presence.  There  are  some  of  you, 
perhaps,  that  are  attending  a  Sunday  School,  w^ho  would  be 
more  profitably  employed  to  your  own  souls  if  you  were 
spending  that  hour  in  communion  with  Christ.  Perhaps,  too, 
you  attend  the  means  so  often  that  you  have  no  time  in  secret 
to  improve  what  you  gain  in  the  means.  Mrs.  Bury  once  said 
that  if  "  all  the  twelve  apostles  were  preaching  in  a  certain 
town,  and  we  could  have  the  privilege  of  hearing  them  preach, 
yet  if  they  kept  us  out  of  our  closets,  and  led  us  to  neglect 
prayer,  better  for  us  never  to  have  heard  their  names,  than  to 
have  gone  to  listen  to  them."  We  shall  never  love  Christ 
much  except  we  live  near  to  him.  Love  to  Christ  is  depend- 
ent on  oar  nearness  to  him.  It  is  just  like  the  planets  and  the 
sun.  Why  are  some  of  the  planets  cold  ?  Why  do  they  move 
at  so  slow  a  rate?  Simply  because  they  are  so  far  from  the 
sun ;  put  them  where  the  planet  Mercury  is,  and  they  will  be 
in  a  boiling  heat,  and  spin  round  the  sun  in  rapid  orbits.  So, 
beloved,  if  we  live  near  to  Christ,  we  can  not  help  loving  him : 
the  heart  that  is  near  Jesus  must  be  full  of  his  love.  But 
when  we  live  days  and  weeks  and  months  without  personal  in- 
tercourse, without  real  fellowship,  how  can  we  maintain  love 
towards  a  stranger  ?  He  must  be  a  friend,  and  we  must  stick 
close  to  him,  as  he  sticks  close  to  us — closer  than  a  brother  ; 
or  else  we  shall  never  have  our  first  love. 

There  are  a  thousand  reasons  that  I  might  have  given,  but 
I  leave  each  of  you  to  search  your  hearts,  to  find  out  why  you 
have  lost,  each  of  you,  your  first  love. 


DECT.ENSION  FROM   FIRST   LOVE.  1V5 

in.  Now,  dear  friends,  just  give  me  all  your  attention  for 
a  moment,  while  I  earnestly  beseech  and  implore  of  you  to 

SEEK   TO    GET   YOUR   FIRST   LOVE   RESTORED.      Shall    I    tell    yoU 

why  ?  Brother,  though  thou  be  a  child  of  God,  if  thou  hast 
lost  thy  first  love,  there  is  some  trouble  near  at  hand.  "  Whom 
the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,"  and  he  is  sure  to  chasten  thee 
when  thou  smnest.  It  is  calm  with  you  to-night,  is  it  ?  Oh  ! 
but  dread  that  calm,  there  is  a  tempest  lowering.  Sin  is  the 
harbinger  of  tempest :  read  the  history  of  David.  All  David's 
life,  in  all  his  troubles,  even  in  the  rocks  of  the  wild  goats,  and 
in  the  caves  of  Engedi,  he  was  the  happiest  of  men  till  he  lost 
his  first  love ;  and  from  the  day  w^hen  his  lustful  eye  was  fixed 
upon  Bathsheba,  even  to  the  last,  he  went  with  broken  bones 
sorrowing  to  his  grave.  It  was  one  long  string  of  afiiictions : 
take  heed  it  be  not  so  with  thee.  "  Ah,  but,"  you  say,  "  I 
shall  not  sin  as  David  did."  Brother,  you  can  not  tell :  if  you 
have  lost  your  first  love  what  should  hinder  you  but  that  you 
should  lose  your  first  purity?  Love  and  purity  go  together. 
He  that  loveth  is  pure ;  he  that  loveth  little  shall  find  his 
purity  decrease,  until  it  becomes  marred  and  polluted.  I 
should  not  like  to  see  you,  my  dear  friends,  tried  and  troubled : 
I  do  weep  with  them  that  weep.  If  there  be  a  child  of  yours 
sick,  and  I  hear  of  it,  I  can  say  honestly,  I  do  feel  something 
like  a  father  to  your  children,  and  as  a  father  to  you.  If  you 
have  sufferings,  and  I  know  them,  I  desire  to  feel  for  you,  and 
spread  your  griefs  before  the  throne  of  God.  Oh,  I  do  not 
want  my  heavenly  Father  to  take  the  rod  out  to  you  all;  but 
he  will  do  it,  if  you  fall  from  your  first  love.  As  sure  as  ever 
he  is  a  Father,  he  will  let  you  have  tho  rod  if  your  love  cools. 
Bastards  may  escape  the  rod.  If  you  are  only  base-born  pro- 
fessors you  may  go  happily  along ;  but  the  true-born  child  of 
God,  when  his  love  declines,  must  and  shall  smart  for  it. 

There  is  yet  another  thing,  my  dear  friends,  if  we  lose  our 
first  love — what  will  the  world  say  of  us  if  we  lose  our  first 
love  ?  I  must  put  this,  not  for  our  name's  sake,  but  for  God's 
dear  name's  sake.  O  what  will  the  world  say  of  us?  There 
was  a  time,  and  it  is  not  gone  yet,  when  men  must  point  at 
this  church,  and  say  of  it,  "  There  is  a  church  that  is  like  a 


176  DECLENSION   FROM   FIRST   LOVE. 

bright  oasis  in  the  midst  of  a  desert,  a  spot  of  light  in  the 
midst  of  darkness."  Our  prayer  meetings  were  prayer  meet- 
ings indeed,  the  congregations  were  as  attentive  as  they  were 
numerous.  Oh,  how  you  did  drink  in  the  words ;  how  your 
eyes  flashed  with  a  living  fire  whenever  the  name  of  Christ 
was  mentioned !  And  what,  if  in  a  little  time  it  shall  be  said, 
"  Ah,  that  churcli  is  quite  as  sleepy  as  any  other ;  look  at 
them  when  the  minister  preaches,  why  they  can  sleep  under 
him,  they  do  not  seem  to  care  for  the  truth.  Look  at  the 
Spurgeonites,  they  are  just  as  cold  and  careless  as  others; 
they  used  to  be  called  the  most  pugnacious  people  in  the 
world,  for  they  were  always  ready  to  defend  their  Master's 
name  and  their  Master's  truth,  and  they  got  that  name  in  con- 
sequence, but  now  you  may  swear  in  their  presence  and  they 
will  not  rebuke  you  :  how  near  these  people  once  used  to  live 
to  God*  and  his  house,  they  were  always  there ;  look  at  their 
prayer  meetings,  they  would  fill  their  seats  as  full  at  a  prayer 
meeting  as  at  an  ordinary  service ;  now  they  are  all  gone 
back."  "Ah,"  says  the  world,  "just  what  I  said  ;  the  fact  is, 
it  was  a  mere  spasm,  a  little  spiritual  excitement,  and  it  has 
all  gone  down."  And  the  worldling  says,  "  Ah,  ah,  so  would 
I  have  it,  so  would  I  have  it !"  I  was  reading  only  the  other 
day  of  an  account  of  my  ceasing  to  be  popular ;  it  was  said 
my  chapel  was  now  nearly  empty,  that  nobody  went  to  it ; 
and  I  was  exceedingly  amused  and  interested.  "  Well,  if  it 
come  to  that,"  I  said,  "  I  shall  not  grieve  or  cry  very  much ; 
but  if  it  is  said  the  church  has  left  its  zeal  and  first  love,  that 
is  enough  to  break  any  honest  pastor's  heart."  Let  the  chafi 
go,  but  if  the  wheat  remain  we  have  comfort.  Let  those  who 
are  the  outer-court  worshipers  cease  to  hear,  what  signifieth  ? 
let  them  turn  aside,  but  O,  ye  soldiers  of  the  cross,  if  ye  turn 
your  backs  in  the  day  of  battle,  where  shall  I  hide  my  head  ? 
what  shall  I  say  for  the  great  name  of  my  Master,  or  for  the 
honor  of  his  gospel  ?  It  is  our  boast  and  joy,  that  the  old- 
fashioned  doctrine  has  been  revived  in  these  days,  and  that 
the  truth  that  Calvin  preached,  that  Paul  preached,  and  that 
Jesus  preached,  is  still  mighty  to  save,  and  far  surpasses  in 
power  all  the  neologies  and  new-fangled  notions  of  the  present 


DECLENSION   FROM   FIRST   LOVE.  177 

time.  But  what  will  the  heretic  say,  when  he  sees  it  is  all 
over  ?  "  Ah,"  he  will  say,  "  that  old  truth  urged  on  by  the 
fanaticism  of  a  foolish  young  man,  did  wake  the  people  a  little ; 
l>ut  it  lacked  marrow  and  strength,  and  it  all  died  away !" 
Will  ye  thus  dishonor  your  Lord  and  Master,  ye  children  of 
the  heavenly  King  ?  I  beseech  you  do  not  so — but  endeavor 
to  receive  again,  as  a  rich  gift  of  the  Spiiit,  your  first  love. 

And  now,  once  again,  deai*  friends,  there  is  a  thought  that 
ought  to  make  each  of  us  feel  alarmed,  if  we  have  lost  our  first 
love.  May  not  this  question  arise  in  our  hearts — Was  I  ever 
a  child  of  God  at  all  ?  Oh,  my  God,  must  I  ask  myself  this 
question  ?  Yes,  I  will.  Are  there  not  many  of  whom  it  is 
said,  they  went  out  from  us  because  they  were  not  of  us ;  for 
if  they  had  been  of  us,  doubtless  they  would  have  continued 
with  us  ?  Are  there  not  some  whose  goodness  is  as  the  morn- 
ing cloud  and  as  the  early  dew — may  that  not  have  been  my 
case  ?  I  am  speaking  for  you  all. '  Put  the  question — may  I 
not  have  been  impressed  under  a  certain  sermon,  and  may  not 
that  impression  have  been  a  mere  carnal  excitement  ?  May 
it  not  have  been  that  I  thought  I  repented  but  did  not  really 
repent?  May  it  not  have  been  the  case,  that  I  got  a  hope 
somewhere  but  had  not  a  right  to  it  ?  And  I  never  had  the 
loving  faith  that  unites  me  to  the  Lamb  of  God.  And  may  it 
not  have  been  that  I  only  thought  I  had  love  to  Christ,  and 
never  had  it,  for  if  I  really  had  love  to  Christ  should  I  be  as 
I  now  am?  See  how  far  I  have  come  down  !  may  I  not  keep 
on  going  down  until  my  end  shall  be  perdition,  and  the  never- 
dying  worm,  and  the  fire  unquenchable  ?  Many  have  gone 
from  heights  of  a  profession  to  the  depths  of  damnation,  and 
may  not  I  be  the  same  ?  May  it  not  be  true  of  me  that  I  am 
as  a  wandering  star  for  whom  is  reserved  blackness  of  dark- 
ness for  ever  ?  May  I  not  have  shone  brightly  in  the  midst 
of  the  church  for  a  little  while,  and  yet  may  I  not  be  one  of 
those  poor  foolisih  virgins  who  took  no  oil  in  my  vessel  with 
my  lamp,  and  therefore  my  lamp  will  go  out  ?  Let  me  think, 
if  I  go  on  as  I  am,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  stop ;  if  I  am  going 
downwards  I  may  go  on  going  downwards.  And  O  my  God, 
if  I  go  on  backsliding  for  another  year — who  knows  where  I 

8* 


178  DECLENSION   FROM   FIRST   LOVE. 

may  have  backslidden  to  ?  Perhaps  into  some  gross  sin. 
Prevent,  prevent  it  by  thy  grace !  Perhaps  I  may  backslide 
totally.  If  I  am  a  child  of  God  I  know  I  can  not  do  that. 
Bat  still,  may  it  not  happen  that  I  only  thought  I  was  a  child 
of  God,  and  may  I  not  so  far  go  back  that  at  last  my  very 
name  to  live  shall  go  because  I  always  have  been  dead  ?  Oh  ! 
bow  dreadful  it  is  to  think  and  to  see  in  our  church,  members 
who  turn  out  to  be  dead  members !  If  I  could  weep  tears  of 
blood,  they  would  not  express  the  emotion  that  I  ought  to 
feel,  and  that  you  ought  to  feel,  when  you  think  there  are 
some  among  us  that  are  dead  branches  of  a  living  vine.  Our 
deacons  find  that  there  is  much  of  unsoundness  in  our  members. 
I  grieve  to  think  that  because  we  can  not  see  all  our  members, 
there  are  many  who  have  backslidden.  There  is  one  who 
says,  "I  joined  the  church,  it  is  true,  but  I  never  was  con- 
verted. I  made  a  profession  of  being  converted,  but  I  was 
not,  and  now  I  take  no  delight  in  the  things  of  God.  I  am 
moral,  I  attend  the  house  of  prayer,  but  I  am  not  converted. 
My  name  may  be  taken  off  the  books  ;  I  am  not  a  godly  man." 
There  are  others  among  you  who  perhaps  have  gone  even 
further  than  that — have  gone  in*?>  sin,  and  yet  I  may  not 
know  it.  It  may  not  come  to  my  ears  in  so  large  a  church  as 
this.  Oh !  I  beseech  you,  my  dear  friends,  by  him  that  liveth 
and  was  dead,  let  not  your  good  be  evil  spoken  of,  by  losing 
your  first  love. 

Are  there  some  among  you  that  Sire  professing  religion,  and 
not  possessing  it  ?  Oh,  give  up  your  profession,  or  else  get 
the  truth  and  sell  it  not.  Go  home,  each  of  you,  and  cast 
yourselves  on  your  faces  before  God,  and  ask  him  to  search 
you,  and  try  you,  and  know  your  ways,  and  see  if  there  be 
any  evil  way  in  you,  and  pray  that  he  may  lead  you  in  the 
way  everlasting.  And  if  hitherto  you  have  only  professed, 
but  have  not  possessed,  seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may  be 
found,  and  call  ye  upon  him  while  he  is  near.  Ye  are  warned, 
each  one  of  you  ;  you  are  solemnly  told  to  search  yourselves 
and  make  short  work  of  it.  And  if  any  of  you  be  hypocrites, 
at  God's  great  day,  guilty  as  I  may  be  in  many  respects,  there 
13  one  thing  I  am  clear  of — ^I  have  not  shunned  to  declare  the 


DECLENSION   FROM  FIRST   LOVE.  179 

whole  counsel  of  God.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  people  in 
the  world  shall  be  damned  more  terribly  than  you  shall  if  you 
perish  ;  for  of  this  thing  I  have  not  shunned  to  speak — the 
great  evil  of  making  a  profession  without  being  sound  at  heart. 
No,  I  have  even  gone  so  near  to  personality,  that  I  could  not 
have  gone  further  without  mentioning  your  names.  And  rest 
assured,  God's  grace  being  with  me,  neither  you  nor  myself 
shall  be  spared  in  the  pulpit  in  any  personal  sin  that  I  may 
observe  in  any  one  of  you.  But  oh,  do  let  us  be  sincere ! 
May  the  Lord  sooner  split  this  church  till  only  a  tenth  of  you 
remain,  than  ever  suffer  you  to  be  multiplied  a  hundred-fold 
unless  you  be  multiplied  with  the  living  in  Zion,  and  with  the 
holy  flock  that  the  Lord  himself  hath  ordained,  and  will  keep 
unto  the  end.  To-morrow  morning  we  shall  meet  together 
and  pray  that  we  may  have  our  first  love  restored  ;  and  I 
hope  many  of  you  will  be  found  there  to  seek  again  the  love 
which  you  have  almost  lost. 

And  as  for  you  that  never  had  that  love  at  all,  the  Lord 
breathe  it  upon  you  now  for  the  love  of  Jesus.     Amen. 


SERMON    XI. 

GOD'S  BARRIERS  AGAINST  MAN'S  SIN. 

"Fear  ye  not  me?  saith  the  Lord;  will  ye  not  tremble  at  my  presence, 
which  have  placed  the  sand  for  the  bound  of  the  sea  by  a  perpetual  decree, 
that  it  can  not  pass  it :  and  though  the  waves  thereof  toss  themselves,  yet 
can  they  not  prevail ;  though  they  roar,  yet  can  they  not  pass  over  it  ?  But 
this  people  hath  a  revolting  and  a  rebellious  heart ;  they  are  revolted  and 
gone." — Jeremiah,  v.  22,  23. 

The  majesty  of  God,  as  displayed  in  creation  and  provi- 
dence, ought  to  stir  up  our  hearts  in  adoring  wonder  and 
melt  them  down  in  willing  obedience  to  his  commands.  The 
Almighty  power  of  Jehovah,  so  clearly  manifest  in  the  works 
of  his  hands,  should  constrain  us,  his  creatures,  to  fear  his 
name  and  prostrate  ourselves  in  humble  reverence  before  his 
throne.  When  we  know  that  the  sea,  however  tempestuous,  is 
entirely  submissive  to  the  behests  of  God  ;  that  when  he  saith, 
"  Hitherto  shalt  tjiou  come,  but  no  further,"  it  dares  not  en- 
croach— "  the  pride  of  its  waves  is  stayed."  When  we  know 
that  God  bridles  the  tempest,  though  "nature  rocks  beneath 
his  tread,"  and  curbs  the  boisterous  storm — he  ought  to  be 
feared — verily,  he  is  a  God  before  whom  it  is  no  dishonor  for  us 
to  bow  ourselves  in  the  very  dust.  The  contemplation  of  the 
marvelous  works  which  he  doth  upon  "the  great  and  wide 
sea,"  where  he  tosseth  the  waves  to  and  fro,  and  yet  keepeth 
them  in  their  ordained  courses,  should  draw  forth  our  devout- 
est  emotions,  and  I  could  almost  say,  inspire  us  with  homage. 
Great  art  thou,  O  Lord  God  ;  greatly  art  thou  to  be  praised ; 
let  the  world  which  thou  hast  made,  and  all  that  therein  is, 
declare  thy  glory !  I  can  scarcely  conceive  a  heart  so  callous 
that  it  feels  no  awe,  or  a  human  mind  so  dull  and  destitute  of 
understanding,  as  fairly  to  view  the  tokens  of  God's  omnipo- 


god's  barriers  against  man's  sin.  181 

tent  power,  and  then  turn  aside  without  some  sense  of  the 
fitness  of  obedience.  One  might  think  the  impression  would 
be  spontaneous  in  every  breast,  and  if  not,  only  let  reason  do 
her  office,  and  by  slower  process  every  mind  should  yet  be 
convinced.  Let  your  eyes  behold  the  stars;  God  alone  can 
tell  their  numbers,  yet  he  calls  them  all  by  names ;  by  him 
they  are  marshaled  in  their  spheres,  and  travel  through  the 
aerial  universe  just  as  he  gives  them  charge  ;  they  are  all  his 
servcmts,  who  with  cheerful  haste  perform  the  bidding  of  their 
Lord.  You  see  how  the  stormy  wind  and  tempest  like  slaves 
obey  his  will ;  and  you  know  that  the  great  pulse  of  ocean 
throbs  and  vibrates  with  its  ebb  and  flow  entirely  under  his 
control.  Have  these  great  things  of  God,  these  wondrous 
works  of  his,  no  lesson  to  teach  us  ?  Do  they  not  while  de- 
claring his  glory  reveal  our  duty  ?  Our  poets,  both  the 
sacred  and  the  uninspired,  have  feigned  consciousness  to  those 
inanimate  agents  that  they  might  the  more  truthfully  rep- 
resent their  honorable  service.  But  if  because  we  are  ra- 
tional and  intelligent  beings,  we  withhold  our  allegiance  from 
our  rightful  Sovereign,  then  our  privileges  are  a  curse,  and 
our  glory  is  a  shame.  Alas,  then  the  instincts  of  men  very 
often  guide  them  to  act  by  impulse  more  wisely  than  they 
commonly  do  by  a  settled  conviction.  Where  is  the  man  that 
will  not  bend  the  knee  in  time  of  tempest  ?  Where  is  the 
man  that  does  not  acknowledge  God  when  he  hears  the  terri- 
ble voice  of  his  deep-toned  thunder,  and  sees  with  alarm  the 
shafts  of  his  lightning  fly  abroad,  cleaving  the  thick  darkness 
of  the  atmosphere  ?  In  times  of  plague,  famine,  and  pesti- 
lence, men  are.  prone  to  take  refuge  in  religion — they  will 
make  confession,  like  Pharaoh,  when  he  said,  "  I  have  sinned 
this  time :  the  Lord  is  righteous,  and  I  and  my  people  are 
wicked  ;"  but  like  him,  when  "  the  rain,  and  the  hail,  and  the 
thunders  have  ceased,"  when  the  plagues  are  removed,  then 
they  sin  yet  more,  and  their  hearts  are  hardened.  Hence 
their  sin  becomes  exceeding  sinful,  since  they  sin  against 
truths  which  even  nature  itself  teaches  us  are  most  just.  We 
might  learn,  even  without  the  written  oracles  of  Scripture, 
that  we  ought  to  obey  God,  if  our  foolish  hearts  were  not  so 


182  god's  baeriees  against  man's  sin. 

darkened  ;  thus  unbelief  of  the  Almighty  Creator  is  a  crime 
of  the  first  magnitude.  If  it  were  a  petty  sovereign  against 
whom  ye  rebelled,  it  might  be  pardonable ;  if  he  were  a  man 
like  yourselves,  ye  might  expect  that  your  faults  would  easily 
find  forgiveness ;  but  since  he  is  the  God  who  reigns  alone, 
where  clouds  and  darkness  are  round  about  him,  the  God  to 
whom  all  nature  is  obedient,  and  whose  high  behests  are 
obeyed  both  in  heaven  and  in  hell,  it  becomes  a  crime,  the 
terrible  character  of  which  words  can  not  portray,  that  you 
should  ever  sin  against  a  God  so  marvelously  great.  The 
greatness  of  God  enhances  the  greatness  of  our  sin.  I  believe 
this  is  one  lesson  which  the  prophet  intended  to  teach  us  by 
the  text.  He  asks  us  in  the  name  of  God,  or  rather,  God 
asks  us  through  him — "Fear  ye  not  me  ?  saith  the  Lord  :  will 
ye  not  tremble  at  my  presence  ?" 

But  while  it  is  a  lesson,  I  do  not  think  it  is  the  lesson  of  the 
text.  There  is  something  else  which  we  are  to  learn  from  it. 
God  here  contrasts  the  obedience  of  the  strong,  the  mighty, 
the  untamed  sea,  with  the  rebellious  character  of  his  owa. 
people.  "  The  sea,"  saith  he,  *'  obeys  me ;  it  never  breaks  its 
boundary ;  it  never  leapeth  from  its  channel ;  it  obeys  me  in 
all  its  movements.  But  man,  poor  puny  man,  the  little  crea- 
ture whom  I  could  crush  as  the  moth,  will  not  be  obedient  to 
me.  The  sea  obeys  me  from  shore  to  shore,  without  reluc- 
tance, and  its  ebbing  floods,  as  they  retire  from  its  bed,  each 
of  them  says  to  me,  in  the  voices  of  the  pebbles,  '  O  Lord, 
we  are  obedient  to  thee,  for  thou  art  our  master.'  But  my 
people,"  says  God,  "  are  a  revolting  and  a  rebeUious  people ; 
they  go  astray  from  me."  And  is  it  not,  my  brethren,  a  mar- 
velous thing,  that  the  whole  earth  is  obedient  to  God,  save 
man  ?  Even  the  mighty  leviathan,  who  maketh  the  deep  to 
be  hoary,  sinneth  not  against  God,  but  his  course  is  ordered 
according  to  his  Almighty  Master's  decree.  Stars,  those  won-"" 
drous  masses  of  light,  are  easily  directed  by  the  very  wish  of 
God  ;  clouds,  though  they  seem  erratic  in  their  movement^ 
have  God  for  their  pilot ;  "he  maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot;" 
and  the  winds,  though  they  seem  restive  beyond  control,  yet 
do  they  blow,  or  cease  to  blow  just  as  God  willeth.    In  hea- 


god's  barriees  against  man's  sin.  183 

ven,  on  earth,  even  in  the  lower  regions,  I  had  almost  said, 
we  could  scarcely  find  such  a  disobedience  as  that  which  is 
practiced  by  man ;  at  least,  in  heaven,  there  is  a  cheerful 
obedience ;  and  in  hell  there  is  constrained  submission  to  God, 
while  on  earth  man  makes  the  base  exception,  he  is  continually 
revolting  and  rebelling  against  his  Maker. 

Still  there  is  another  thought  in  the  text,  and  this  I  shall 
endeavor  to  dilate  upon.  Let  us  read  it  again.  "Fear  ye 
not  me  ?  saith  the  Lord :  will  ye  not  tremble  at  my  presence?" 
— now  here  is  the  pith  of  the  matter — "  which  have  placed 
the  sand  for  the  bound  of  the  sea  by  a  perpetual  decree,  that 
it  can  not  pass  it :  and  though  the  waves  thereof  toss  them- 
selves, yet  can  they  not  prevail ;  though  they  roar,  yet  can 
they  not  pass  over  it  ?  But  this  people  hath  a  revolting  and 
a  rebellious  heart;  they  are  revolted  and  gone."  "The  sea," 
says  God,  "  is  not  only  obedient,  but  it  is  rendered  obedient 
by  the  restraint  merely  of  sand."  It  is  not  the  rock  of 
adamant  that  restrains  the  sea  one  half  so  easily  as  just  that 
little  belt  of  sand  and  shingle  which  preserves  the  dry  land 
from  the  inundations  of  the  ocean.  "The  sea  obeys  me.  and 
has  for  its  only  check  the  sand ;  and  yet,"  says  he,  "  ray 
people,  though  they  have  restraints  the  strongest  that  reason 
could  imagine,  are  a  revolting  and  a  rebellious  people,  and 
scarcely  can  my  commands,  my  promises,  my  love,  my  judg- 
ment, my  providence  or  my  word  restrain  them  from  sin." 

That  is  the  point  we  shall  dwell  upon  this  morning.  The 
sea  is  easily  restrained  by  a  belt  of  sand ;  but  we,  notwith- 
standing all  the  restraints  of  God^  are  a  people  bent  on  revolt- 
ing from  him. 

The  doctrine  of  the  text  seems  to  me  to  be  this — that  with- 
out supernatural  means  God  can  make  all  creatures  obedient 
save  *raan  ;  but  man  is  so  disobedient  in  his  heart,  that  only 
some  supernatural  agency  can  make  him  obedient  to  God, 
while  the  simple  agency  of  sand  can  restrain  the  sea,  withoit 
any  stupendous  efibrt  of  divine  power  more  than  he  ordinarily 
puts  out  in  nature :  he  can  not  thus  make  man  obedient  to 
his  will. 

Now,  my  brethren,  let  us  look  back  into  history  and  see  if 


184  god's  barriers  against  man's  sin. 

it  has  not  been  so.  What  has  been  a  greater  problem,  if  we 
may  so  speak  concerning  the  divine  mind,  than  that  of  restrain- 
ing men  from  sin  ?  How  many  restraints  God  has  put  upon 
man  !  Adam  is  in  the  garden,. pure  and  holy  ;  he  has  restraints 
that  one  would  think  strong  enough  to  prevent  his  commit- 
ting a  sin  so  contemptible  and  apparently  unprofitable  as  that 
by  which  he  fell.  He  is  to  have  the  whole  garden  in  per- 
petuity, if  he  will  not  eat  of  that  tree  of  life ;  his  God  will 
walk  with  him,  and  make  him  his  friend  ;  moreover,  in  the  cool 
of  the  day  he  shall  hold  converse  with  angels,  and  v\i,ith  the 
Lord,  the  Master  of  angels ;  and  yet  he  dares  eat  of  that  holy 
fruit  which  God  had  set  forth  not  to  be  touched  by  man. 
Then  he  must  die.  One  would  think  it  was  enough  to  promise 
reward  for  obedience,  and  punishment  for  sin  ;  but  no,  the 
check  fails.  Man,  left  to  his  own  free  will,  touches  the  fruit, 
and  he  falls.  Man  can  not  be  restrained,  even  in  his  purity,  so 
easily  as  the  mighty  sea.  Since  that  time,  mark  what  God  has 
done  by  way  of  restraint.  The  world  has  become  corrupt ;  it 
is  altogether  covered  with  iniquity.  Forth  comes  a  prophet. 
Enoch  prophesies  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  declaring  that 
he  sees  him  coming  with  ten  thousand  of  his  saints  to  judge 
the  world.  That  world  goes  on,  as  profane  and  unheeding  as 
before.  Another  prophet  is  raised  up,  and  cries,  "  Yet  a  little 
while,  and  this  earth  shall  be  drowned  in  a  flood  of  water." 
Do  men  cease  from  sin  ?  No ;  profligacy,  crime,  iniquities  of 
the  vilest  class,  are  as  prevalent  as  before.  Man  rushes  on  to 
his  destruction ;  the  deluge  comes  and  destroys  all  but  a  fa- 
vored few.  The  new  family  goes  out  to  people  the  earth  :  will 
not  the  world  now  be  clean  and  holy?  Wait  a  little,  and  ye 
shall  see.  One  of  these  men  will  do  a  deed  which  shall  render 
him  a  curse  for  ever,  an^  his  son  Canaan  shall  in  after  years 
inherit  his  father's  curse.  Kot  long  after  that  you  see  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah  devoured  with  fire  which  God  rains  out  of  hea- 
ven. But  what  of  this  ?  What  though  in  later  years  Pharaoh 
and  his  chariots  are  drowned  in  the  Red  sea?  What  though 
Sennacherib  and  his  hosts  perish  at  midnight  by  the  blast  of 
an  archangel  ?  What  though  the  world  reels  to  and  fro,  and 
staggers  like  a  drunken  man,  being  drunken  with  the*  wine  of 


god's  barriees  against  man's  sin.  185 

God's  wrath?  "What  though  the  earth  be  scarred  and  burned 
by  war?  What  though  it  be  deluged  with  floods?  "What 
though  it  be  oppressed  with  famines,  pestilences,  and  diseases  ? 
She  still  goes  on  in  the  same  manner ;  at  this  hour  the  world 
is  a  sinful,  rebellious  world,  and  until  God  shall  work  a  work 
in  our  day,  such  as  we  shall  scarce  believe,  though  a  man  tell 
it  to  us,  the  world  shall  never  be  pure  and  holy.  The  sea  is 
restrained  by  sand  ;  we  admire  the  beautiful  poetic  fact ;  but 
being  naturally  more  ungovernable  than  the  storm  and  more 
impetuous  than  the  ocean,  is  not  to  be  tamed ;  he  will  not  bend 
his  neck  to  the  Lord,  nor  will  he  be  obedient  to  the  God  of 
the  whole  earth. 

"  But  what  of  this  fact  ?" — you  say — "  we  know  it  is  true ; 
we  do  not  doubt  it."  Stay  awhile  ;  I  am  now  coming  to  deal 
with  your  hearts  and  consciences ;  and  may  the  Holy  Spirit 
help  me  in  doing  so !  I  shall  divide,  as  God  would  divide 
them — saints  and  sinners. 

First  of  all,  ye  saints^  I  have  a  word  to  say  to  you.  I  want 
you  to  look  at  this  as  a  doctrine  not  more  evident  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind  at  large,  than  abundantly  verified  in  your  own 
case.  Come,  now,  I  want  to  ask  of  you  this  morning,  whether 
it  can  not  be  said  of  you  truly — "  The  sea  is  bound  by  sand  ; 
but  I  am  one  of  those  people  who  are  bent  on  revolting  from 
God,  neither  can  any  of  his  restraints  keep  me  from  sin."  Let 
us  review,  for  a  few  moments,  the  various  restraints  which  God 
has  put  upon  his  people  to  keep  them  from  sins  which,  never- 
theless, are  altogether  ineffectual,  without  the  accompanying 
power  of  irresistible  grace. 

First,  then,  remember  there  is  a  restraint  of  gratitude  which, 
to  the  lowly,  regenerated  heart,  must  necessarily  form  a  very 
strong  motive  to  obedience.  I  can  conceive  of  notliing  that 
ought  so  much  to  prompt  me  to  obedience  as  the  thought  that 
I  owe  so  much  to  God.  O  heir  of  heaven  !  thou  canst  look 
back  to  eternity  and  see  thy  name  in  life's  fiir  book  set  down  ; 
thou  canst  sing  of  electing  love ;  thou  dost  believe  that  a 
covenant  was  made  with  Christ  in  thy  behalf,  and  that  thy 
salvation  was  made  secure  in  that  moment  when  the  hands  of 
the  eternal  Son  grasped  the  stylus  and  signed  his  name  as 


186  god's  barriees  against  man's  sin. 

the  representative  of  all  the  elect.  Thou  believest  that  on 
Calvary  thy  sins  were  all  atoned  for;  thou  hast  in  thy  soul  the 
conviction  that  thy  sins,  past,  present  and  to  come,  were  all 
numbered  on  the  scape-goat's  head  of  old,  and  carried  aw^ay 
for  ever ;  thou  believest  that  neither  death  nor  hell  can  ever 
divide  thee  from  thy  Saviour's  breast;  thou  knowest  that 
there  is  laid  up  for  thee  a  crown  of  life  which  fadeth  not 
away,  and  thine  expectant  soul  anticipates  that  with  branches 
of  palms  in  thine  hands,  with  crowns  of  gold  on  thine  head, 
and  streets  of  gold  beneath  thy  feet,  thou  shalt  be  happy  for 
ever.  Thou  believest  thyself  to  be  one  of  the  favored  of  Hea- 
ven, a  special  object  of  divine  solicitation  ;  thou  thinkest  that 
all  things  work  together  for  thy  good,  yea,  thou  art  persuaded 
that  every  thing  in  providence  has  a  special  regard  to  thee,  and 
to  thy  favored  brethren.  I  ask  thee,  O  saint,  is  not  this  a 
bond  strong  enough  to  keep  thee  from  sin  ?  If  it  were  not 
for  the  desperate  unstableness  of  thy  heart,  wouldst  thou  not 
be  restrained  from  sin  by  this?  Is  not  thy  sin  exceeding 
sinful,  because  it  is  sin  against  electing  love,  against  redeem- 
ing peace,  against  all-surpassing  mercy,  against  matchless  affec- 
tion, against  shoreless  grace,  against  spotless  love  ?  Ah  !  sin 
has  reached  its  climax,  when  it  dures  to  sin  against  such  love 
as  this.  O  Christian  !  thine  affection  to  thy  Lord  and  Master 
should  restrain  thee  from  iniquity.  And  is  it  not  a  fearful 
proof  of  the  terrible  character  of  thine  heart — of  thine  heart 
even  now,  for  still  thou  hast  evil  remaining  in  it — that  all  the 
ties  of  gratitude  are  still  incapable  of  keeping  thee  from  un- 
holiness.  The  sins  of  yesterday  rise  to  thy  memory  now.  Oh  ! 
look  back  on  them.  Do  they  not  tell  thee  that  thou  dost  sin 
most  ungratefully  ?  O  saint !  didst  thou  not  yesterday  use 
thy  Master's  name  in  vain,  and  not  thy  Master's  only,  but  thy 
Father's  name?  Hadst  thou  not  yesterday  an  unbeheving 
heart  ?  Wast  thou. not  petulant  when  girded  with  fan^ors  that 
ought  to  make  a  living  man  unwilling  to  complain  ?  Wast 
thou  not,  when  God  hath  forgiven  thee  ten  thousand  talents, 
angry  with  thy  neighbor,  who  owed  thee  a  hundred  pence  ? 
Ah  Christian !  thou  art  not  yet  free  from  sin,  nor  wilt  thou  be, 
until  thou  hast  washed  thy  gai-ments  in  death's  black  stream, 


god's  barriers  against  man's  sin.  18*7 

and  then  thou  shalt  be  holy,  as  holy  as  the  glorified  and  pure, 
and  spotless,  even  as  the  angels  around  the  throne,  but  not  till 
then.  I  ask  thee,  O  saint,  viewing  thy  sins  as  sins  against  love 
and  mercy,  against  covenant  promises,  covenant  oaths,  cove- 
nant engagements,  ay,  and  covenant  fulfillments,  is  not  thy  sin 
a  desperate  thing,  and  art  not  thou  thyself  a  rebellious  and  re- 
volting being,  seeing  that  thou  canst  not  be  restrained  by  such 
a  bari'ier  of  adamant  as  thy  soul  acknowledges  ? 

Next  notice  that  the  saint  has  not  only  this  barrier  against 
sin,  but  many  others.  He  has  the  whole  of  God's  Word  given 
him  by  way  of  warning ;  its  pages  he  is  accustomed  to  read  ; 
he  reads  there,  that  if  he  break  the  statutes  and  keep  not  the 
commandments  of  the  Lord,  his  Father  will  visit  his  transgres- 
sions with  a  rod,  and  his  iniquity  with  stripes.  He  has  before 
him  in  God's  Word  abundant  examples.  He  finds  a  David 
going  with  broken  bones  to  his  grave  after  his  sin  ;  he  finds  a 
Samson  shorn  of  his  locks,  and  with  his  eyes  put  out ;  he  sees 
proof  upon  proof  that  sin  will  find  a  man  out ;  that  the  back- 
slider in  heart  shall  be  filled  with  his  own  ways.  Abundant 
warnings  there  are  for  the  child  of  God,  not  of  saints  who  have 
perished,  for  we  have  none  such  on  record  in  Scripture,  and 
none  ever  shall  finally  perish — but  we  have  many  warnings  of 
great  and  grievous  damages  sustained  by  God's  own  children 
when  they  have  sailed  out  of  their  proper  course.  And  yet, 
O  Christian,  against  all  w^arning  and  against  all  precept  thou 
darest  to  sin.  Oh !  art  thou  not  a  rebellious  creature,  and 
mayest  thou  not  this  morning  humble  thyself  at  the  thought 
of  the  greatness  of  thine  iniquity. 

Again :  the  saint  sins  against  his  own  experience.  When 
he  looks  back  upon  his  past  Ufe  he  finds  that  sin  has  always 
been  a  loss  to  him ;  he  has  never  found  any  profit,  but  has  al- 
ways lost  by  it.  He  remembers  such  and  such  a  transgression ; 
it  appeared  sweet  to  him  at  the  time,  but  oh !  it  made  his 
Master  withdraw  his  presence  and  hide  his  face.  The  saint 
can  look  back  on  the  time  when  sin  hung  like  a  mill-stone 
round  his  neck,  and  he  felt  the  terrible  flame  of  remorse  burn- 
ing in  his  soul,  and  knew  how  evil  a  thing  and  bitter  it  is  to 
siu  against  God.    And  yet  the  saint  sins.     Now,  if  the  uncon- 


4 


188  GOD'S   BAERIERS   AGAINST   MAN'S   SIN. 

verted  man  sins,  he  does  not  sin  against  his  own  experience, 
for  he  has  not  had  that  true,  heartfelt  experience  that  renders 
sin  exceeding  sinful.  But  every  time  thou  sin  nest,  O  gray- 
headed  saint,  thou  sinnest  with  a  vengeance,  for  thou  hast  had 
all  through  thy  life  so  much  proof  of  what  sin  has  been  to  thee. 
Thou  hast  not  been  deceived  about  it,  for  thou  hast  felt  its  bit- 
terness in  thy  bowels:  and  when  thou  sippest  the  accursed 
draught  thou  art  infatuated  indeed,  because  thou  sinnest 
against  experience.  Ay,  and  the  youngest  of  the  saints,  have 
you  not  been  made  to  taste  the  bitterness  of  sin  ?  I  know 
you  have,  if  you  are  saints !  and  will  you  go  and^dip  your 
fingers  in  the  nauseous  cup  ?  Will  you  put  the  poisoned  gob- 
let to  your  lips  again  ?  Yes,  you  will ;  but  because  you  do  so 
in  the  teeth  of  your  experience,  it  ought  to  make  you  weep, 
that  you  should  be  such  desperate  rebels  against  such  a  loving 
God,  who  has  put  not  merely  a  barrier  of  sand,  but  a  barrier 
of  tried  steel  to  keep  in  your  lusts,  and  yet  they  will  break 
forth;  verily  ye  are  a  rebellious  and  revolting  people. 

Then  again,  God  guards  all  his  children  with  providence,  in 
order  to  keep  them  from  sin.  I  could  tell  you,  even  from  the 
little  experience  I  have  had  of  spiritual  things,  many  cases  in 
which  I  feel  I  have  been  kept  from  sin  by  divine  Providence. 
There  have  been  seasons  when  the  strong  hand  of  sin  has  ap- 
peared for  a  while  to  get  the  mastery  over  us,  and  we  have 
been  dragged  along  by  some  strong  inherent  lust,  whioh  we 
were  prone  to  practice  before  our  regeneracy.  We  were  in- 
toxicated with  the  lust,  we  remember  how  pleasurable  it  was 
to  us  in  the  days  of  our  iniquity,  how  we  reveled  in  it,  till  we 
were  on  a  sudden  dragged  to  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice, 
and  we  looked  down ;  our  brain  reeled,  we  could  not  stand ; 
and  do  we  not  remember  how,  just  then,  some  striking  provi- 
dence came  in  our  way,  and  saved  us,  or  else  we  should  have 
been  excommunicated  from  the  church  -for  violating  the  rules 
of  propriety  ?  Ah !  strange  things  happen  to  some  of  us ; 
strange  things  have  happened  to  some  of  you.  It  was  onlj^a 
providence  which  on  some  sad  and  solemn  occasion,  to  which 
you  never  look  back  without  regret,  saved  you  from  sin 
which  would  have  been  a  scab  on  your  character.     Bless  God 


GOD'S   BARRIERS  AGAINST  MAN'S   SIN.  189 

for  that !  But  remember,  notwithstanding  the  girdlings  of  his 
providence,  how  many  times  you  have  offended ;  and  let  the 
frequency  of  your  sin  remind  you  that  you  must  indeed  be  a 
rebellious  creature.  Though  he  has  afflicted  you,  you  have 
sinned ;  though  he  has  given  you  chastisement,  you  have 
sinned  ;  though  he  has  put  you  in  the  furnace,  yet  the  dross 
has  not  departed  from  you.  Oh!  how  corrupt  your  hearts 
are,  and  how  prone  you  are  still  to  wander,  notwithstanding 
all  the  baiTiers  God  has  given  you  to  encompass  you ! 

Yet,  once  more  let  me  remind  you,  beloved,  that  the  ordi* 
nances  of  God's  house  are  all  intended  to  be  checks  to  sin. 
He  girds  us  by  the  worship  of  the  sanctuary ;  he  girds  us  by 
the  remembrance  of  our  holy  baptisQi ;  and  all  else  that  is  con- 
nected with  Christianity  is  intended  to  check  us  from  sin.  And 
great  are  the  effects  which  these  produce ;  yet  all  are  insuffi- 
cient, without  the  preserving  grace  of  God,  given  to  us  day  by 
day.  Let  us  think,  beloved,  too,  that  God  has  given  to  us  a 
tender  conscience,  more  tender  than  the  conscience  of  worldly 
men,  because  he  has  given  us  living  consciences,  whereas  theirs 
are  often  seared  and  dead.  And  yet,  against  this  living  con- 
science, against  the  warnings  of  the  Spirit,  against  precept, 
against  promise,  against  experience,  against  the  honor  of  God, 
and  against  the  gratitude  they  owe  him,  the  saints  of  God 
have  dared  to  sin,  and  they  must  confess  before  him  that  they 
are  rebelhous,  and  have  revolted  from  him.  Bow  down  your 
heads  with  shame  while  ye  consider  your  ways,  and  then  lift 
up  your  hearts.  Christians,  in  adoring  love,  that  he  has  kept 
you  when  your  feet  were  making  haste  to  hell,  where  you 
would  have  gone,  but  for  his  preserving  grace.  Shall  not  this 
long-suffering  of  your  God,  this  tender  compassion,  be  your 
theme  every  day, 

'*  While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 
Or  immortality  endures?" 

Will  you  not  pray  that  God  should  not  cast  you  away,  nor 
take  his  Holy  Spirit  from  you,  though  you  are  a  rebellious 
creature,  and  though  you  have  revolted  against  him  ? 
This  is  for  the  saints ;  and  now  may  the  Spirit  help  me, 


190  god's   BAEEIEES   against  man's   SINw 

wliile  I  strive  to  apply  it  to  sinners  !  Sinner,  I  have  solemn 
things  to  say  to  thee  this  morning;  lend  me  for  a  few  minutes 
thy  very  closest  attention ;  I  will  speak  to  thee  as  though  this 
were  the  last  message  I  should  ever  deliver  in  thine  ear.  I  have 
asked  my  God,  that  I  may  so  speak  to  thee,  O  sinner,  that  if 
I  win  not  thy  heart  I  may  at  least  be  free  from  thy  blood ; 
and  that  if  I  am  not  able  to  convince  thee  of  thy  sin,  I  may 
at  any  rate  make  thee  without  excuse  in  that  day  "  when  God 
shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ  according  to 
my  gospel."  Come  then,  sinner ;  in  the  first  place  I  bid  thee 
consider  thy  guilt.  Thou  hast  heard  what  I  have  said.  The 
mighty  ocean  is  kept  in  obedience  by  God,  and  restrained 
within  its  channel  by  simple  sand ;  and  thou,  a  pitiful  worm, 
the  creature  of  a  day,  the  ephemera  of  an  hour,  thou  art  a 
rebel  against  God.  The  sea  obeys  him ;  thou  dost  not.  Con- 
sider, I  beseech  thee,  how  many  restraints  God  has  put  on 
thee;  he  has  not  checked  thy  lusts  with  sand  but  with  beet- 
ling clifis ;  and  yet  thou  hast  burst  through  every  bound  in 
the  violence  of  thy  transgressions.  Perhaps  he  has  checked 
thy  soul  by  the  remembrance  of  thy  guilt.  Thou  hast  this 
morning  felt  thyself  a  despiser  of  God  ;  or  if  not  a  despiser, 
thou  art  a  mere  hearer,  and  hast  no  part  or  lot  in  this  matter. 
Dost  thou  not  remember  thy  sins  in  the  face  of  thy  mother's 
counsels  and  thy  father's  strong  admonitions  ?  Do  they  never 
check  thee  ?  Dost  thou  never  think  thou  seest  a  mother's  tears 
coming  after  thee  ?  Hast  thou  never  heard  a  father's  prayers 
for  thee  ?  When  thou  hast  been  spending  thy  nights  in  dis- 
sipation, and  hast  gone  home  late  to  thy  bed,  hast  thou  never 
thought  thou  hast  seen  thy  father's  spirit  at  thy  bed  side,  off- 
ering one  more  prayer  for  an  Absalom,  his  son,  or  for  an  Ish- 
raael,  his  rebellious  child  ?  Consider  what  thou  hast  learned, 
child !  Baptized  with  a  mother's  tears,  almost  immersed  in 
them  ;  thou  wast  early  taught  to  know  something  of  God  ; 
when  thou  didst  go  from  thy  mother's  knees,  thou  wentest  to 
those  of  a  pious  teacher;  thou  w^ast  trained  in  a  Sabbath 
School,  or  at  any  rate  thou  wast  taught  to  read  the  Bible. 
Thou  knowest  the  threatenings  of  God ;  it  is  no  new  tale  to 
thee,  when  I  warn  thee  that  sinners  must  be  condemned ;  it 


god's  barriers  against  man's  sin.  191 

is  no  new  story  when  I  tell  thee  that  saints  shall  wear  the 
starry  crown;  thou  kuowest  all  that.  Consider,  then,  how 
great  is  thy  guilt ;  thou  hast  sinned  against  light  and  knowl- 
edge ;  thou  art  not  the  Hottentot  sinner,  who  sins  in  dark- 
ness, but  thou  art  a  sinner  before  high  heaven,  in  the  full  light 
of  day;  thou  hast  not  sinned  ignorantly,  thou  hast  done  it 
when  thou  knewest  better ;  and  when  thou  comest  to  be  lost, 
thou  shalt  have  an  additional  doom,  because  thou  didst  know 
thy  duty,  but  thou  didst  it  not.  I  charge  that  home  upon  thee, 
I  charge  it  solemnly  upon  thy  conscience ;  is  it  true,  or  is  it 
not?  Some  of  you  have  had  other  things.  Do  n't  you  remem- 
ber, some  little  time  ago,  when  sickness  was  rife,  you  were 
stretched  on  your  bed  ?  One  night  you  will  never  forget ; 
sickness  had  got  strong  hold  of  you,  and  the  strong  man 
bowed  himself.  Do  you  not  remember  what  a  sight  you  had 
then  of  the  regions  of  the  damned ;  not  with  your  eyes,  but 
with  your  conscience  ?  You  thought  you  heard  their  shrieks ; 
you  thought  you  would  be  amongst  them  yourself  soon.  Me- 
thuiks  I  see  you ;  you  turned  your  face  to  the  wall,  and  you 
cried,  "  O  God,  if  thou  wilt  save  my  life,  I  will  give  myself 
to  thee !"  Perhaps  it  was  an  accident ;  thou  didst  fear  that 
death  was  very  near ;  the  terrors  of  death  laid  hold  of  thee, 
and  thou  didst  cry,  "  Oh !  God,  let  me  but  reach  home  in 
safety,  and  my  bended  knees  and  my  tears  pouring  in  torrents 
shall  prove  that  I  am  sincere  in  the  vow  I  make."  But  didst 
thou  perform  that  vow  ?  Nay,  thou  hast  sinned  against  God ; 
thy  broken  vows  have  gone  before  thee  to  judgment.  Dost 
thou  think  it  a  little  thing  to  make  a  promise  to  thy  fellow- 
creature  and  break  it  ?  It  may  be  so  in  thine  estimation,  but 
not  so  in  that  of  honest  men.  But  dost  thou  think  it  a  little 
thing  to  promise  to  thy  Maker,  and  to  break  thy  promise  ? 
There  is  no  light  penalty  for  sinning  against  the  Almighty 
God ;  it  will  cost  thee  thy  soul,  man,  and  thy  soul's  blood 
for  ever,  if  thou  gocst  on  in  this  fashion.  Vow  and  pay,  or  if 
thou  payest  not,  vow  not ;  for  God  shall  visit  those  vows  upon 
thee,  in  tlie  day  when  he  maketh  inquisition  for  blood,  and 
destroyeth  thy  soul.  Thou  hast  been  guarded  thus ;  remem- 
ber that  thou  bast  had  extraordinary  deliverances,  the  disease 


192  god's  barriers  against  man's  sin. 

did  not  kill  thee  ;  thy  broken  bones  were  healed  ;  thou  didst 
not  die ;  when  the  jaws  of  death  were  uplifted,  they  did  not 
close  upon  thee :  here  thou  art  still.     Thy  life  is  spared. 

Oh !  my  dear  hearers,  some  of  you  are  the  worst ;  you  have 
regularly  sat  in  these  pews — God  is  my  witness,  how  earnestly 
I  have  longed  for  you  all  in  the  bowels  of  Christ.  I  have  not 
shunned  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God  to  you.  If  I 
had  been  a  time-server,  and  kept  back  part  of  the  truth,  much 
more  honor  would  I  have  received  from  men  than  I  have  re- 
ceived ;  but  I  have  cleared  my  conscience,  I  trust,  from  your 
blood.  How  many  times  have  I  seen  men  and  women  cry, 
the  hot  tears  falling  down  their  cheeks  in  quick  succession ! 
and  expected  that  I  should  have  seen  a  change  in  some  of 
your  lives.  But  how  many  of  you  there  are,  who  have  gone 
on  sinning  against  warnings,  which  I  am  sure,  though  they 
may  have  been  excelled  in  eloquence,  have  never  been  exceed- 
ed in  heartiness  !  Do  you  think  it  a  httle  thing  to  sin  against 
God's  ambassador  ?  It  is  no  little  sin :  every  time  we  sin 
against  the  warnings  we  have  received,  we  sin  so  much  the 
more  heinously.  But  there  are  some — I  had  hoped  for  you,  but 
ye  have  gone  back  to  the  ways  of  perdition ;  I  have  cried, 
"Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  why  will  ye  die?"  But  I  have  been 
obliged  to  go  to  my  Master  with  that  exclamation,  "Who 
hath  believed  our  report?  and  to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the 
Lord  revealed  ?"  Woe  unto  thee,  Bethsaida ;  it  were  better 
for  thee  if  thou  hadst  been  Tyre  and  Sidon  than  that  thou 
shouldst  have  been  left  in  the  midst  of  privileges,  if  thou 
shouldst  perish  at  last !  Woe  unto  you  that  listen  not  unto 
the  voice  of  the  minister  here!  If  ye  perish  beneath  our 
warnings,  ye  shall  perish  in  a  horrible  manner !  Woe  unto 
thee,  Capernaum !  thou  art  exalted  unto  heaven,  but  thou 
shalt  be  cast  down  to  hell.  Woe  unto  thee,  young  woman  ! 
thou  hast  had  a  pious  mother,  and  thou  hast  had  many  warn- 
ings. Woe  unto  thee,  young  man !  thou  hast  been  a  profli- 
gate youth  !  thou  hast  been  brought  to  this  house  of  prayer 
from  thy  infancy,  and  thou  art  sitting  there  even  now  ;  often 
does  thy  conscience  prick  thee  ;  often  thy  heart  has  told  thee 
that  thou  art  wrong  ;  and  yet  thou  art  still  unchanged !     Woe 


god's   BARRIEES  against  atAN'S  SIN.  193 

unto  thee !  Woe  unto  thee  I  And  yet  will  I  cry  unto  my 
God,  that  he  would  avert  that  woe  and  pardon  thee ;  that  he 
would  not  let  thee  die,  but  bring  thee  unto  himself,  lest  now 
ye  perish  in  your  sins.  Ye  sinners  !  God  has  a  controversy 
with  you ;  he  tames  the  sea,  but  ye  will  not  be  tamed ;  noth- 
ing but  his  marvelous  grace  exerted  in  you  will  ever  check 
you  in  your  lusts.  You  have  sinned  against  warnings  and 
reproofs,  against  providences,  mercies,  and  judgments,  and 
still  ye  sin. 

Oh  !  my  hearers,  when  you  sin,  you  do  not  sin  so  cheaply  as 
others ;  for  when  you  sin,  you  sin  in  the  very  teeth  of  hell. 
There  is  not  a  man  or  woman  in  this  place,  I  am  sure,  who, 
when  he  or  she  sins,  does  not  know  that  hell  is  the  inevitable 
consequence !  Sirs,  ye  do  not  sin  in  the  dark.  When  God 
shall  give  you  the  wages  of  your  iniquity,  you  shall  not  be 
able  to  say,  "  O  God,  I  did  not  know  this  would  be  the  pay 
for  my  labor."  When  thou  didst  sow  tares,  thou  couldst  not 
expect  that  thou  shouldst  reap  wheat ;  thou  knowest  "  that 
they  who  sow  carnal  things,  shall  reap  carnal  things ;"  thou 
art  sowing  to  the  flesh,  but  not  with  the  hope  that  thou  wilt 
reap  salvation  ;  for  thou  knowest  that  "  he  who  soweth  to  the 
flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption."  Sinnei-,  it  is  a  dread- 
ful thing  to  sin,  when  God  puts  hell  before  thee  !  What !  sin 
when  he  has  given  out  his  threatening  ?  Sin  !  while  Sinai  is 
thundering,  while  all  hell  is  blazing  ?  Ay,  that  is  to  sin  in- 
deed. But  how  many  of  you,  my  dear  hearers,  have  sinned 
like  this  ?  I  would  to  God,  that  he  would  turn  this  house  into 
a  Bochim,  that  you  might  weep  over  your  guilt.  It  is  the 
hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  make  men  believe  their  guilt.  If 
we  could  once  get  them  to  do  that,  we  should  find  that  Christ 
would  reveal  to  them  his  salvation.  I  can  not  Avith  my  poor 
voice  and  my  weak  utterance,  even  bring  you  to  think  that  it 
is  Jesus  Christ  in  the  ministry  of  his  Spirit  who  can  give  you 
a  true  and  real  sense  of  your  sin.  Hath  he  done  so  ?  Hath 
he  blessed  my  words  to  any  of  you  ?  Do  any  of  you  feel 
your  sins  ?  Do  any  of  you  know  that  you  are  rebellious  ?  Do 
you  say,  from  this  time  forth  you  will  mend  your  ways  ?  Sirs, 
let  me  tell  you,  you  can  not  do  that.   Are  you  better  than  the 

0 


194  god's  baeriers  agatnst  man's  sin. 

mightiest  of  men  ?  The  best  of  men  are  but  men  at  the  best, 
and  they  are  convinced  that  they  can  not  tame  their  own  tur- 
bulent passions,  God  saith  that  the  sea  can  be  tamed  with 
sand  ;  but  the  heart  of  man  can  not  be  restrained,  it  is  still 
revolting.  Dost  thou  think  thou  canst  do  that,  which  God 
saith  is  impossible  ?  Dost  thou  suppose  thyself  stronger  than 
God  Almighty  ?  What !  canst  thou  change  thine  own  heart 
when  God  declares  that  we  must  be  born  again  from  above, 
or  else  we  can  not  see  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  Others  have 
tried  to  do  it,  but  they  can  not.  I  beseech  thee,  do  not  try 
to  do  it  with  thine  own  strength.  I  am  glad  thou  knowest 
thy  guilt ;  but  O  do  not  increase  that  guilt,  by  seeking  to  wash 
it  out  in  the  foul  stream  of  thine  own  resolutions.  Go  and  tell 
God  that  thou  knowest  thy  sin,  and  confess  it  before  him,  and 
ask  him  to  create  in  thee  a  clean  heart,  and  renew  in  thee  a 
right  spirit.  Tell  him  thou  knowest  that  thou  art  rebellious, 
and  thou  art  sure  that  thou  always  wilt  be,  unless  he  change 
thy  heart ;  and  I  beseech  thee,  rest  not  satisfied  until  thou  hast 
a  new  heart.  My  hearer,  be  not  content  with  baptism  ;  be 
not  content  with  the  Lord's  Supper  ;  be  not  content  with  shut- 
ting up  your  shop  on  Sunday ;  be  not  content  with  leaving 
off  drunkenness ;  be  not  content  with  giving  up  swearing. 
Remember,  you  may  do  all  that,  and  be  damned.  It  is  a 
new  heart  and  a  right  spirit  you  want ;  begin  with  that,  and 
when  you  have  that,  all  the  rest  will  come  right.  Bethink 
thee,  my  hearer ;  thou  mayest  varnish  and  gild  thyself,  but 
thou  canst  never  change  thyself.  Thou  mayest  moralize,  but 
thou  canst  never  spiritualize  thy  heart.  But  just  bethink  thee. 
Thou  art  this  morning  lost ;  and  just  think  of  this — thou  canst 
do  nothing  whatever  to  save  thyself  Let  that  thought  rise 
in  thy  soul,  and  lay  thee  very  low ;  and  when  thou  goest  to 
God,  cry,  "  O  Lord,  do  what  I  can  not  do  ;  save  me,  O  my 
God,  for  thy  mercy's  sake." 

My  dear  hearers,  have  I  spoken  harshly  to  you,  or  will  ye 
rather  take  it  in  love  ?  Ye  who  have  sinned  thus  terribly 
against  God,  do  ye  feel  it  ?  Well,  I  have  no  grace  to  offer  to 
thee,  I  have  no  Christ  to  offer  to  thee,  but  I  have  a  Christ  to 
preach  to  thee.     Oh  1  what  shall  I  say  ?    This : — you  are  a 


god's  barriers  against  man's  sin.  195 

sinner.  "  It  is  a  faithful  snying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation, 
that  ChnH  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  even  the 
chieC  Art  thou  a  sinner  ?  Then  he  came  to  save  thee.  Oh  ! 
joyful  sound,  I  am  ready  to  leap  in  the  pulpit  for  very  joy,  to 
h:ive  this  to  preach  to  thee.  I  can  clap  my  hands  with  ecsta?;y 
of  heart,  that  I  am  allowed  again  to  tell  thee — "  It  is  a  faithful 
saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus  came 
into  the  world  to  save  sinnei-s."  Let  me  tell  you  that  when 
he  came  into  this  world  he  was  nailed  to  the  cross,  and  that 
there  he  expired  in  desperate  griefs  and  agony  ;  and  there  he 
shrieked,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?" 
There  the  blood  ran  from  his  hands  and  feet,  and  because  he 
suffered  he  is  able  to  forgive.  Sinner,  dost  thou  believe  that  ? 
Thou  art  black ;  dost  thou  believe,  in  the  face  of  thy  black- 
ness, that  Christ's  blood  can  make  thee  white?  What  sayest 
thou,  sinner?  God  has  convinced  thee  of  thy  sin  ;  art  thou 
willing  to  be  saved  in  God's  way  this  morning  ?  If  thou  art 
willing,  thou  shalt  be  saved.  It  is  written — "Whosoever 
will,  let  him  come."  Art  thou  thirsty  this  morning  ?  come 
hither  and  drink.  Art  thou  hungry  ?  come  and  eat.  Art 
thou  dying  ?  come  and  live.  My  Master  bids  me  tell  you,  all 
you  who  feel  your  sins,  that  you  are  forgiven  ;  al^  you  who 
know  your  transgressions,  he  bids  me  tell  you  this  :-^  I,  even 
I,  am  he  that  blotteth  out  your  transgressions,  for  rajr  name's 
sake."  Hast  thou  been  an  adulterer,  hast  thou  been  rf  whore- 
monger, a  thief,  a  drunkard,  a  Sabbath-breaker,  a  swearer  ?  I 
find  no  exception  in  this  proclamation  : — "  Whosoever  will, 
let  him  come."  I  find  no  exception  in  this : — "  Him  that  com- 
eth  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  Dost  thou  know  thy  guilt  ? 
then  I  do  not  ask  thee  what  thy  guilt  is.  Tliough  thou  wert 
the  vilest  creature,  again  I  tell  thee,  if  thou  knowest  thy 
guilt,  Christ  will  forgive  thee.  Believe  it,  and  thou  art  saved. 
And  now  will  ye  go  away  and  forget  all  this  ?  Some  of  you 
Lave  wept  this  morning.  No  wonder  ;  the  wonder  is  that  we 
do  not  all  weep  until  we  find  ourselves  saved  !  You  will  go 
away  to-murrow  to  your  farms  and  to  your  merchandise,  to 
your  shops,  and  to  your  offices ;  and  the  impression  that  may 
have  been  produced  on  you  this  Sabbath  morning  will  pass 


196  god's  baeriees  against  man's  sin. 

away  like  the  morning  cloud.  My  hearers,  I  would  not  weep, 
though  you  should  call  me  all  the  names  you  can  think  of,  but 
I  will  weep  because  you  will  not  weep  for  yourselves.  Sin- 
ners, why  will  ye  be  damned  ?  Is  it  a  pleasant  thing  to  revolt 
in  the  flames  of  hell  ?  Sirs,  what  profit  is  there  in  your  death  ? 
What !  is  it  an  honorable  thing  to  rebel  against  God  ?  Is  it 
an  honor  to  stand  and  be  the  scorn  of  God's  universe  ?  Dost 
thou  say  thou  shalt  not  die ;  yet  thou  wilt  put  it  off  a  little 
while  ?  Sinner,  thou  wilt  never  have  a  more  convenient  sea- 
son ;  if  to-day  is  inconvenient,  to-morrow  will  be  more  so. 
Put  it  off  to-day,  wipe  away  the  tears  from  your  eyes,  and  the 
day  may  come  when  you  would  give  a  million  worlds  for  a 
tear,  but  you  shall  not  be  able  to  get  one.  Many  a  man  has 
had  a  soft  heart ;  it  has  passed  away,  and  in  after  years  he  has 
said,  *'  Oh,  that  I  could  but  shed  a  tear !"  O  God  !  make  thy 
word  like  a  hammer  this  morning,  that  it  may  break  the  rocky 
heart  in  pieces !  Ye  who  know  your  sins,  as  God's  ambassa- 
dor, I  beseech  you,  "  be  ye  reconciled  unto  God."  "  Kiss  the 
Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way,  when  his 
wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little."  Remember,  once  lost,  ye  are 
lost  for  ever.  But  if  ye  are  once  saved,  ye  are  certainly  saved 
for  ever.  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt 
be  saved,"  said  Paul  of  old  ;  Jesus  himself  hath  said,"  He  that 
believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved  ;  but  he  that  believeth 
not  shaH  be  damned."  I  will  not  finish  with  a  curse.  "  He 
that  believeth  shall  be  saved,"  God  give  you  all  an  interest 
in  that  eternal  blessing,  for  the  Lord  Jesus'  sake  1 


SERMON   XII. 
COMFORT    PROCLAIMED. 

"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people,  saith  your  Grod." — Isaiah,  xL  1. 

What  a  sweet  title:  "My  people!"  What  a  cheering 
revelation  :  "  Your  God  !"  How  much  of  meaning  is  couched 
in  those  two  words,  "  My  people."  Here  is  speciality.  The 
whole  world  is  God's;  the  heaven,  even  the  heaven  of  heavens 
are  the  Lord's,  and  he  reignetl\  among  the  children  of  men. 
But  he  saith  of  a  certain  number,  "  My  people."  Of  those 
whom  he  hath  chosen,  whom  he  hath  purchased  to  himself,  he 
saith  what  he  saith  not  of  others.  While  nations  and  kin- 
dreds are  passed  by  as  being  simply  nations,  he  says  of  them^ 
"  ]^Iy  people."  In  this  word  there  is  the  idea,  of  proprietor- 
ship to  teach  us  that  we  are  the  property  of  God.  In  some 
special  manner  the  "Lord's  portion  is  his  j^eople  ;  Jacob  is  the 
lot  of  his  inheritance."  All  the  nations  upon  earth  are  his ; 
he  taketh  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing  ;  the  whole  world 
is  in  his  power ;  yet  are  his  people,  his  chosen,  favored  people, 
more  especially  his  possession ;  for  he  has  done  more  for  them 
than  others ;  he  has  bought  them  with  his  blood  ;  he  has 
brought  them  nigh  to  himself;  he  has  set  his  great  heart  upon 
them  ;  he  has  loved  them  with  an  everlnsliiig  love,  a  love 
which  many  waters  can  not  quench,  and  which  the  revolutions 
of  time  shall  never  suffice  in  the  least  degree  to  diminish. 
*'  My  people !"  O  my  hearers,  can  you  by  faith  put  your- 
selves in  that  number  who  believe  that  God  says  of  them, 
"  My  people  ?"  Can  you  look  up  to  heaven  to-niglit,  and  say, 
"  My  Lord,  and  my  God :  mine  by  that  sweet  relationship 
which  entitles  me  to  call  thee  Father ;  mine  by  that  hallowed 
fellowship  which  I  delight  to  hold  with  thee  when  thou  art 
pleased  to  manifest  thyself  unto  me  as  thou  dost  not  unto  the 


198  COMTOET  PROCLAIMED. 

world  ?  Canst  thou,  beloved,  put  thy  hand  into  thine  heart 
and  find  there  the  indentures  of  thy  salvation  ?  Canst  thou 
read  thy  title  writ  in  j^recious  blood  ?  Canst  thou  by  humble 
faith  lay  hold  of  Jesus'  garments,  and  say,  "  My  Christ  ?"  If 
thou  canst,*'then  God  saith  of  thee,  "  My  people  ;"  for  if  God 
be  your  God,  and  Christ  your  Christ,  the  Lord  has  a  special, 
peculiar  favor  to  you  ;  you  are  the  object  of  his  choice,  and 
you  shall  be  accepted,  at  last,  in  his  beloved  Son.  How  careful 
God  is  of  his  people ;  those  of  whom  he  says,  "  My  people  ;" 
mark,  how  anxious  he  is  concerning  them,  not  only  for  their 
life,  but  for  their  comfort.  He  does  not  say,  "  Strengthen  ye, 
strengthen  ye  my  people ;"  he  does  not  say  to  the  angel, 
"Protect  my  people  ;"  he  does  not  say  to  the  heavens,  "Drop 
down  manna  to  feed  ray  people  ;" — all  that  and  more  also  his 
tender  regard  secures  to  them;  but  on  this  occasior^to  show 
us  that  he  is  not  only  regardful  of  our  interests,  but  also  of 
our  superfluities,  he  says,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people." 
He  would  not  only  have  us  his  living  people,  his  preserved 
people,  but  he  would  have  us  be  his  happy  people  too.  He 
likes  his  people  to  be  fed,  but  what  is  more,  he  likes  to  give 
them  "wines  on  the  lees  well  refined,"  to  make  glad  their 
hearts.  He  will  not  only  give  them  bread,  but  he  will  give 
them  honey  too ;  he  will  not  simply  give  them  milk,  but  he 
will  give  them  wine  and  milk,  and  all  the  sweet  things  which 
their  hearts  can  desire.  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people ;" 
it  is  the  Father's  yearning  heart,  careful  even  for  the  little 
things  of  his  people.  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye," — that  one 
with  a  tearful  eye  ;  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye," — yon  child  of 
mine  with  an  aching  heart ;  "  Comfort  ye," — that  poor  be- 
moaning one ;  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye — my  people,  saith 
your  God." 

jNTow  to-night  we  shall  notice  the  parties  to  whom  the  com- 
mand is  addressed  /  secondly,  the  reason  for  it  y  and  thirdly, 
the  means  for  carrying  it  out. 

I.  First,  then,  to  whom  is  this  command  addressed  ?  You 
know,  beloved,  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the  great  Comforter,  and  he 
it  is  who  alone  can  solace  the  saints  if  their  hearts  be  really 
cheered  j  but  he  uses  instruments  to  relieve  his  children  in 


COMFORT   PROCLAIMED.  199 

their  distress  and  to  lift  up  their  hearts  from  desperation.  To 
whom,  then,  is  this  command  addressed  ?  I  believe  it  is  ad- 
dressed to  angels  and  to  men. 

To  angels^  first  of  all,  I  believe  this  command  is  addressed  : 
"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people."  You  often  talk  about 
the  insinuations  of  the  devil ;  I  frequently  hear  you  bemoaning 
yourselves  because  you  have  been  attacked  by  Apollyon,  and 
have  had  a  hard  struggle  with  Beelzebub  ;  you  have  found  it 
hard  to  resist  his  desperate  thrusts  which  ho  made  against  you ; 
and  you  are  always  talking  about  him.  Allow  me  to  remind 
you  that  there  is  another  side  of  that  question,  for  if  evil 
spirits  assault  us,  doubtless  good  spirits  guard  us ;  and  if  Satan 
can  cast  us  down,  doubtless  it  is  true  God  giveth  his  angels 
charge  over  us,  to  keep  us  in  all  our  ways,  and  they  shall  bear 
us  up  in  their  hands  lest  at  any  time  we  dash  our  feet  against 
a  stone.  It  is  my  firm  belief  that  angels  are  often  employed 
by  God  to  throw  into  the  hearts  of  his  people  comforting 
thoughts.  There  are  many  sweet  thoughts  w^hich  we  have  by 
the  way,  when  we  sit  down,  and  when  we  rise  up,  which  we 
scarcely  dare  attribute  immediately  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  but 
which  are  still  beautiful  and  calm,  lovely,  and  fair,  and  consol- 
ing; and  we  attribute  them  to  the  ministry  of  angels.  Angels 
came  and  ministered  unto  Jesus,  and  I  doubt  not  that  they 
minister  unto  us.  Few  of  us  have  enough  belief  in  the  exist- 
ence of  spirits.  I  like  that  saying  of  Milton's,  "  MilHons  of 
spiritual  creatures  walk  this  earth  both  when  we  sleep  and 
when  we  wake."  And  if  our  minds  were  opened,  if  our  ears 
were  attentive,  we  might  hold  fellowship  with  spirits  that  flit 
through  the  air  at  every  moment.  Around  the  death-bed  of 
saints  angels  hover ;  by  the  side  of  every  struggling  warrior 
for  Christ  the  angels  stand.  In  the  day  of  battle  we  hear  in 
the  air  the  neighing  of  their  steeds.  Hark !  how  softly  do 
they  ride  to  help  the  elect  of  God,  while  in  the  stern  conflict 
for  the  right  and  for  the  truth,  when  they  would  have  been 
Cast  down,  some  angel  whispers,  "  Courage,  brother,  courage  ; 
I  would  I  could  stand  by  thy  side,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and 
foot  to  foot,  to  fight  the  battle,  but  I  must  not ;  it  is  left  for 
men.  Courage,  then,  brother,  because  angels  watch  over  thee  I" 


200  COMFOET  PEOCLAIMED. 

It  is  a  good  wish  of  ours,  when  we  say  at  eventide,  "  Peace 
be  to  thee,  beloved  !  good  angels  guard  thee  !  may  they  spread 
their  wrings  o'er  thee  and  stand  around  thy  bed !"  But  it  is 
more  than  a  wish,  it  is  a  reality.  Do  ye  not  know  it  is  written, 
"  The  angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth  around  them  that  fear 
him  ?"  "  Are  they  not  all  ministering  spirits,  sent  forth  to 
minister  unto  them  who  are  heirs  of  salvation  ?"  This  com- 
mand, then,  comes  to  angels:  "Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my 
people."  Full  oft  the  bright-winged  seraph  flaps  his  wings  to 
earth,  to  comfort  some  desponding  heart.  Full  oft  the  cherub, 
ceasing  for  a  moment  his  mighty  song  to  go  on  errands  of 
love,  descends,  as  Gabriel  did  of  old,  to  cheer  the  heart  of 
many  a  struggling  man,  and  to  stand  by  the  side  of  those  who 
are  in  conflict  for  God  and  for  his  truth.  Ye  angels,  ye  bright 
spirits,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people." 

But  on  earth,  this  is  more  especially  addressed  to  the  Lord's 
ministers.  He  calls  his  ministers  angels  of  the  churches, 
albeit  they  should  be  a  great  deal  more  like  angels  than  they 
are.  Ministers  are  bound  to  comfort  God's  people.  I  ani 
sure,  however,  they  can  not  do  it,  unless  they  preach  the  good 
old  doctrines  of  truth.  Except  they  preach  grace  and  gracious 
doctrine,  I  can  not  see  how  they  are  to  console  the  minds  of 
the  Lord's  family.  Were  I  to  adopt  a  lax  theology  which 
teaches  that  God's  children  may  fall  away,  that  although  re- 
deemed they  may  yet  be  lost,  that  they  may  be  efiectually 
called,  and  yet  slide  back  to  perdition — I  want  to  know  how  I 
could  carry  out  this  command  ?  I  shoyld  say, "  Brethren, 
Go'd  has  told  me  to  comfort  you ;  that  is  what  I  have  to 
preach ;  you  must  get  what  comfort  you  can  out  of  it,  for  I 
really  can  not  find  much."  I  have  often  marveled  how  the 
Arminian  can  comfort  himself,  wherewith  he  can  light  a  fire  to 
w^arm  his  own  heart !  What  doctrine  hath  he  ?  He  believes 
he  is  a  child  of  God  to-day,  and  he  is  taught  to  believe  he  is 
a  child  of  the  devil  to-morrow.  Pie  is  now,  he  says,  in  the 
covenant,  but  then  that  covenant  is  such  an  uncertain  thing 
that  it  may  at  any  time  be  broken  down,  and  he  may  die  be- 
neath its  ruins ;  he  knows  himself  to  be  redeemed  by  the 
blood  of  Christ,  yet  he  is  taught  that  it  will  not  be  sufiicient 


COMFORT   PKOCLAIMED.  201 

without  the  concurrence  of  some  good  thoughts,  good  ac- 
tions, or  certainly  some  good  grace,  some  faith  ol  his  own. 
He  is  led  to  believe  that  his  standing  depends  upon  his  own 
keeping  near  to  God,  instead  of  remembering  that  his  keeping 
near  to  God  must  be  by  a  sweet  attraction  that  proceeds  from 
God  himself.  Whence  then  comfort  is  to  be  procured  I  can 
not  tell.  Happy  I  am  I  have  no  such  gospel  as  that  to  pi-each. 
Let  me  preach  the  old  gospel  of  Chrysostom,  the  old  gospel 
of  Augustine,  the  old  gospel  of  Athanasius ;  and  above  all  the 
old  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  originator  of  it ;  for  there  I  can 
find  something  to  comfort  the  child  of  God,  "  Comfort  ye,  com- 
fort ye  my  people."  It  is  our  duty  to  reprove,  to  exhort,  to  invite, 
but  it  is  equally  our  duty  to  console.  The  minister  should  ask 
of  God  the  Spirit,  that  he  may  be  filled  with  his  influence  as 
a  comforter;  that  when  he  ascends  his  pulpit  on  the  Sabbath 
morning,  his  poor  hard-working  people,  who  have  been  toiling, 
fretting  with  care  and  anxiety  all  the  week,  may  say,  "  Here 
comes  our  minister  ;  he  is  sure  to  have  his  mouth  filled  with 
good  things ;  as  soon  as  he  opens  his  lips  he  will  utter  some 
great  and  glorious  promise  from  God's  Word.  He  has  little 
to  say  himself,  but  he  will  be  sure  to  tell  us  some  good  old  truths 
with  some  fresh  unction,  and  w^e  shall  go  away  refreshed." 
Oh !  ye  sons  of  toil,  some  of  you  understand  this.  With 
weary  feet  ye  come  to  God's  house ;  but  oh  !  how  gladly  do 
ye  sing  there,  and  how  sweetly  does  your  singing  harmonize 
with  your  hearts !  and  when  you  have  heard  the  Word  you 
go  away  and  say,  "  Would  God  it  were  Sunday  all  the  week  I 
Oh  !  that  I  might  sit  and  ever  hear  the  words  of  God  !  Oh  I 
that  I  might  sit  and  ever  drink  in  such  comforts,  so  should  I 
be  satisfied  as  with  marrow  and  fatness !"  But  sometimes  you 
come  up,  and  there  is  a  flogging  for  you  just  when  there  needs 
to  be  consolation  ;  or  you  get  some  dry,  hard  metaphysical 
subject  that  has  not  any  nourishment  for  your  souls  in  it,  and 
you  go  away  half  starved.  You  hear  some  fine  discourse  with 
rounded  periods,  and  people  say,  "  Oh  !  such  an  oration  !  never 
was  English  so  beautifully  spoken  by  Hall  or  Chalmers.  How 
admirably  it  was  delivered  !"  But  alas  I  alas !  what  of  the 
dbh,  the  porcelain,  the  knife,  the  plate,  th^  splendid  damask 

0* 


202  COMFOET  PROCLAIMED. 

cloth,  the  vase  of  flowers — where  is  the  footl  ?  There  is  none 
there.  You  have  got  the  garnishings  and  you  ought  to  be 
thankful,  and  hold  your  ministers  in  esteem,  even  if  they  with- 
hold from  you  your  necessary  bread  !  But  the  child  of  God 
won't  like  that ;  he  says,  "  I  am  weary  of  such  things,  away 
with  these  garnishings,  give  it  me  in  plain  rough  Saxon  if  you 
will,  but  give  me  the  gospel!  Cut  it  up  in  any  fashion  you 
like,  but  do  give  me  something  to  feed  upon."  The  language 
may  be  rough,  and  the  style  homely,  but  the  heir  of  heaven 
says,  "There  was  'comfort  ye  my  people'  in  it;  and  that  was 
what  I  wanted.  Its  style,  humanly  speaking,  may  not  have 
exactly  suited  my  taste,  but  it  has  fed  my  soul,  and  that  will 
sufiice  me." 

But,  my  friends,  do  not  support  your  ministers  as  an  excuse 
for  the  discharge  of  your  own  duties ;  many  do  so.  They 
think  when  they  have  subscribed  toward  the  support  of  the 
ministry,  it  is  enough  ;  imagining,  as  our  Roman  Catholic 
friends  do,  that  the  priest  is  to  do  every  thing,  and  the  people 
nothing ;  but  that  is  very  wrong.  "When  God  said,  "  Com- 
fort ye,  comfort  ye  my  people,"  he  spake  to  all  his  people  to 
comfort  one  another.  And  who  is  there  here  that  knows  the 
Lord  and  has  tasted  of  his  grace  who  can  not  comfort  his 
brethren  ?  There  is  my  strong  friend  who  is  on  the  mount 
feasting  on  dying  love ;  he  is  the  subject  of  rhapsodies  and 
high  excitement;  his  soul  is  like  the  chariot  of  Amminadib; 
it  is  on  fire  with  his  Master's  presence ;  he  is  living  near  to 
God  and  drinking  in  fullness  of  joy.  Oh  !  my  brother,  go  and 
tell  out  a  portion  to  seven,  and  also  to  eight ;  for  thou  know- 
est  not  what  sorrow  there  is  upon  the  earth.  When  thou  art 
happy,  remember  there  is  sure  to  be  some  one  else  sad. 
When  thy  cup  runneth  over,  find  out  an  empty  cup  to  catch 
the  drops  that  overflow.  When  thy  soul  is  full  of  joy,  go,  if 
thou  canst,  and  find  a  mourner  and  let  him  hear  thy  song,  or 
sit  down  by  his  side  and  tell  him  how  glad  thou  art,  and  may 
hap  his  poor  heart  may  be  warmed  by  thy  sweet,  cheering 
words.  But  art  thou  weak  ?  Art  thou  sad  thyself?  Then 
go  to  him  who  is  the  great  Comforter  and  ask  him  to  relieve 
thy  distresses,  and  after  that  go  out  thyself  and  comfort  others. 


COMFORT  PROCLAIMED.  203 

There  are  none  so  good  to  comfort  others  as  those  who  once 
were  comfortless.  If  I  were  an  orphan  now,  and  needed  a 
helper,  I  would  seek  one  who  had  been  an  orphan  in  his  yonth 
'that  he  might  sympathize  with  me.  Were  I  houseless  and 
poor,  I  would  not  go  to  the  man  who  has  rolled  in  wealth 
from  earliest  youth,  but  I  would  seek  out  the  man  who,  like 
myself,  has  trodden,  with  bare  foot,  the  cold  pavement  of  the 
street  at  midnight ;  I  would  seek  out  the  man  who,  penniless 
and  poor,  has  begged  his  way  from  town  to  town,  and  then, 
by  God's  providence,  has  worked  himself  up;  for  I  could  be- 
lieve that  such  an  one  would  have  a  heart  to  sympathize  with 
me.  Go,  thou  poor  tried  one,  go,  thou  weather-beaten  soul  if 
thou  canst,  and  call  to  thy  mate,  who  is  just  out  at  sea  with 
thee,  and  tell  him  to  be  of  good  cheer.  Thou  who  art  in  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  sing,  "  Yea,  though  I  walk 
through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no 
evil ;"  and  mayhap  some  brother  far  behind  thee  will  hear  the 
song,  and  will  take  heart. 

"  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us, 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And  departing,  leave  behind  us, 
Foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

"  Foot-prints  that,  perhaps,  another, 
Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main, 
A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 
Seeing,  may  take  heart  again." 

Go,  and  when  thou  hast  found  any  good,  strive  to  perpetuate 
it  by  communicating  it  to  others.  When  thy  foot  is  on  the 
rock,  show  others  how  to  put  their  feet  there.  When  thou 
art  glad,  tell  others  how  thou  wast  made  glad,  and  the  same 
cordial  which  cheered  thee  may  cheer  them  likewise.  "  Com- 
fort ye,  comfort  ye  my  people." 

Now  why  do  we  not  enjoy  this  a  little  more  ?  I  believe 
one  reason  is  because  we  are  most,  of  us  rather  too  proud  to 
tread  in  our  Master's  footsteps.  We  like  not  to  say  with  him, 
"  I  am  not  come  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister." 
"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people"  is  a  sublime  admonition, 


204  COMFORT   PROCLAIMED. 

but  never  surely  inteucled  for  the  meager  sympathy  of  fashion — • 
for  a  lady  who  can  ride  in  her  carriage,  and  send  her  card  up, 
when  she  calls  to  inquire  for  a  friend  who  is  sick ;  but  were 
I  to  press  home  the  duty,  and  tell  her  that  "  my  people"  in- 
cludes the  poorest  of  God's  flock,  the  weakest  and  the  mean- 
est, she  would  think  me  a  rude  and  vulgar  young  man,  vm- 
acquainted  with  the  etiquette  of  genteel  society.  Comfort 
the  poor  ! — why  should  she  ?  "  The  lower  classes  expect  a 
great  deal  too  much  of  the  upper,  I  shall  not  mean  myself  by 
stooping  to  them."  This  kind  of  feeling  many  professing 
Christians  have ;  they  talk  with  a  fine  hsp,  they  deem  it 
enough  to  say,  "  Poor  creature,  I  pity  your  case,  I  am  sorry 
for  you  !"  But  the  heir  of  heaven  reads,  "  Comfort  ye,  com- 
fort ye  my  people."  There  is  a  i^oor  man  in  the  streets  who 
has  just  come  begging  a  crust  at  your  door,  and  you  can  see, 
by  what  he  says,  that  there  is  something  of  God's  grace  in 
his  heart ;  then  comfort  him.  There  is  another  up  the  creak- 
ing stair-case  in  that  back  alley  ;  you  never  went  up  there,  you 
might  be  afraid  to  go ;  but  if  you  hear  of  a  child  of  God 
there,  do  not  shrink  back.  God's  diamonds  may  be  often 
found  amid  heaps  of  rags  and  tatters,  in  the  very  outskirts  of 
the  city,  the  abodes  of  haggard  poverty  ;  so  go  after  them. 
Whensoever  you  hear  of  a  child  of  God,  go  and  find  him  out ; 
for  this  command,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people,"  never 
ought  to  be  put  aside  by  our  pride.  Why,  you  go  to  your 
churches  and  chapels,  sometimes,  and  sit  in  your  pews,  with- 
out even  a  thought  of  speaking  to  your  neighbors.  Some 
men  will  go  to  church  seven  years,  and  scarcely  know  the 
name  of  the  next  seat-holder.  Is  that  right?  Many  will  sit 
at  the  Lord's  table,  too,  and  not  speak  to  each  other.  But 
that  is  not  the  fashion  of  communion  as  I  understand  it :  it  is 
not  the  fashion  of  the  gospel  either.  When  I  was  but  a  youth, 
the  smallest  boy  almost  that  ever  joined  the  church,  I  remem- 
ber I  thought  that  everybody  believed  what  he  said,  and  when 
I  heard  the  minister  say  brother,  I  thought  I  must  be  his 
brother,  for  I  was  admitted  into  the  church.  I  once  sat  next 
to  a  gentleman  in  a  pew,  and  we  received  the  bread  and  wine 
together;  he  called  me  "  Brother,"  and  as  I  thought  he  meant 


COMFORT  PEOCLAIMED.  206 

it,  I  afterward  acted  upon  it.  I  had  no  friend  in  the  town  of 
Cambridge,  where  I  was ;  and  one  day  wlien  walking  out,  I 
saw  tliis  same  gentleman,  and  I  said  to  myself,  "  Well  now,  he 
called  me  brother ;  I  know  he  is  a  great  deal  better  off  than  I 
am,  but  I  don't  care  for  that ;  I  will  go  and  speak  to  him." 
So  I  went  and  said,  "How  do  you  do,  brother?"  "I  have 
not  the  pleasure  of  knowing  you,"  was  his  reply.  I  said,  "  I 
sat  next  to  you  at  the  Lord's  table  last  Sabbath  day,  sir,  and 
you  called  me  brother  when  you  passed  the  cup  to  me,  and  I 
was  sure  you  meant  it."  "  There  now,"  said  he,  "  it  is  worth 
while  seeing  some  one  who  believes  a  little  with  sincerity  in 
these  times ;  come  in  with  me."  And  we  have  been  the  near- 
est and  dearest  bosom  friends  ever  since,  just  because  he  saw 
I  took  him  at  his  word,  that  he  meant  what  he  said.  But 
now-a-days  profession  has  become  a  pretense  and  a  sham  ; 
people  sit  down  at  the  church  together,  as  though  they  were 
brethren,  the  minister  calls  you  brethren,  but  he  won't  speak 
to  you,  or  own  you  as  such  ;  his  people  are  his  brethren  no 
doubt,  but  then  it  is  in  such  a  mysterious  sense  that  you  will 
have  to  read  some  German  theologian  in  order  to  comprehend 
it.  That  person  is  "  your  very  dear  brother,"  or  "  your  very 
dear  sister,"  but  if  you  are  in  distress,  go  to  them  and  see  if 
they  will  assist  you.  I  do  not  believe  in  such  a  religion  as 
that.  I  would  have  those  who  profess  to  be  brethren,  believe 
that,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people,"  applies  to  every 
member  of  Christ's  church,  and  that  they  all  ought  to  carry 
it  out  to  the  utmost  of  their  abilities. 

II.  Secondly,  What  are  the  reasons  for  this  command? 
Why  does  God  say  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people  ?" 

The  first  reason  is  because  God  loves  to  see  his  people  look 
happy.  The  Roman  Catholic  supposes  that  God  is  pleased  with 
a  man  if  he  whips  himself^  walks  barefooted  for  many  miles,  and 
torments  his  body.  I  am  certahi  if  I  were  to  see  any  one  do 
that,  I  should  say,  "  Poor  soul,  give  him  a  pair  of  shoes ;  do 
take  that  wiiip  from  him,  I  can  not  bear  to  see  him  so."  And 
as  I  believe  that  God  is  infinitely  more  benevolent  than  I  am, 
I  can  not  suppose  that  he  would  take  pleasure  in  seeing  blood 
ran  down  a  man's  back,  or  blisters  rising  on  his  feet.    If  a 


206  COMFOET  PROCLAIMED. 

man  would  please  God,  he  had  better  make  himself  as  happy 
as  he  can.  When  I  am  by  the  sea-side,  and  the  tide  is  coming 
in,  I  see  what  appears  to  be  a  little  fringe,  looking  almost  like 
a  mist ;  and  I  ask  a  fisherman  what  it  is.  He  tells  me  there 
is  no  mist  there ;  and  that  what  I  see  are  all  little  shrimps 
dancing  in  ecstasy,  throwing  themselves  in  convulsions  and 
contortions  of  deHght.  I  think  within  myself,  "  Does  God 
make  those  creatures  happy,  and  did  he  make  me  to  be  miser- 
able ?  Can  it  ever  be  a  religious  thing  to  be  unhappy  ?" 
No ;  true  religion  is  in  harmony  with  the  whole  world ;  it  is 
in  harmony  with  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars ;  and  the  sun 
shines  and  the  stars  twinkle;  it  is  in  harmony  with  all  the 
world  ;  and  the  world  has  flowers  in  it  and  leaping  hills,  and  car- 
oling birds ;  it  has  joys  in  it ;  so  I  believe  rehgion  was  meant  to 
have  joys  in  it ;  and  I  hold  it  to  be  an  irreligious  thing  to  go 
moping  miserably  through  God's  creation.  You  can  not  help 
it  sometimes,  just  as  sins  will  overtake  you,  but  happiness  is  a 
very  virtue.  "  Go  thy  way,  eat  thy  bread  with  joy  and  drink 
thy  wine  with  a  merry  heart,  for  God  now  accepteth  thy 
works,"  which  means  not  so  much  eating  and  drinking,  as  the 
living  with  a  joyous  countenance,  and  walking  before  God, 
believing  in  his  love,  and  rejoicing  in  his  grace. 

Again,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people  ;"  because  un- 
comfortable Christians  often  dishonor  religion.  Look  at  my 
friend  who  is  come  here  to-night  with  such  a  sorrowful  coun- 
tenance. Yesterday,  he  had  a  new  servant  in  his  house,  and 
when  she  went  down  into  the  kitchen,  she  said  to  her  fellow- 
servant,  "  Is  not  our  master  a  pious  man  ?"  "  Yes,  surely." 
"  I  thought  so  because  he  looks  so  miserable."  Kow  that  is 
a  disgrace  to  religion.  Whenever  a  Christian  man  sinks  under 
affliction  ;  when  he  does  not  seek  grace  from  God  to  battle  man- 
fully with  his  sea  of  troubles ;  when  he  does  not  ask  his  Father 
to  give  him  a  great  weight  of  consolation  whereby  he  shall  be 
able  to  endure  in  the  evil  day,  we  may  say  he  does  dishonor  to 
the  high,  and  mighty,  and  noble  principles  of  Christianity,  which 
are  fitted  to  bear  a  man  up  in  times  of  the  very  deepest  affliction. 
It  is  the  boast  of  the  gospel  that  it  hfts  men  above  ti-ouble  ;  it 
is  one  of  the  glories  of  our  Christianity,  that  it  makes  us  say, 


COMPORT  PROCLAIMED.  •  207 

"  Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be 
in  the  vine,  the  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall 
yield  no  meat,  yet  will  I  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the 
God  of  my  salvation."  But  when  the  Christian  gets  sad  and 
miserable,  run  to  him,  brother ;  wipe  that  tear  from  his  eye, 
tell  him  to  cheer  up,  or  at  least  if  he  is  sad,  not  to  let  the 
world  see  it ;  if  he  fasts,  let  him  anoint  his  head,  and  wash  his 
face,  that  he  appear  not  unto  men  to  fast.  Let  his  garments 
be  always  white,  and  let  his  head  lack  no  oil ;  let  him  be  happy ; 
for  so  he  giveth  credit  to  religion. 

Again,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people ;"  because  a 
Christian  in  an  uncomfortable  state  can  not  work  for  God 
much.  Break  a  poor  man's  heart  and  let  him  come  on  this 
platform  with  a  grieved  and  agonizing  spirit ;  and  oh  !  what  a 
want  of  power  there  will  be  in  him  !  He  wants  all  his  time 
for  his  own  sighs  and  groans,  and  will  have  none  to  si)end  upon 
God's  people.  We  have  seen  broken-hearted  ministers  who 
have  sadly  lamented  that  when  in  trouble,  they  have  found 
themselves  unable  to  declare  God's  truth  as  they  could  wish. 
It  is  when  the  mind  is  happy,  that  it  can  be  laborious.  Nothing 
hurts  the  man  whilst  he  can  keep  all  right  with  Heaven,  and 
feel  it  so ;  whilst  he  can  say  that  God  is  his  own  God,  he  can 
work  night  and  day,  and  scarcely  feel  fatigued.  But  take 
away  his  comforts  and  his  joys,  and  then  one  day's  labor  dis- 
tracts his  nerves  and  shatters  all  his  mind.  Then  comfort 
God's  people,  because  bruised  reeds  give  little  music,  and  the 
smoking  flax  makes  httle  fire.  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye"  the 
saints,  for  they  will  work  ten  times  better  when  their  minds 
have  once  been  made  comfortable. 

Again,  "  Comfort  ye"  God's  people,  because  ye  profess  to 
love  them.  You  call  that  poor  aged  cripple,  loitering  home 
to-night,  leaning  on  her  crutch,  your  sister ;  do  you  know  that 
she  will  go  to  bed  to-night  supperless  ?  Only  once  has  she 
tasted  food  to-day,  and  that  was  dry  bread  ;  do  you  know 
that?  and  is  she  your  sister?  Let  you  heart  speak:  would 
you  allow  your  sister  to  eat  dry  bread  once  a  day,  and  hUve 
nothing  else"?  No  ;  out  of  love  to  her  as  your  relation,  you 
would  go  and  comfort  her.     There  is  another  poor  brother 


208  .  COMFORT  PROCLAIMED. 

who  will  pass  you  on  the  road  home,  not  poor  in  bodily  things, 
but  poor  in  soul,  distressed  in  spirits.  Do  n't  do  as  that  person 
has  just  done — he  has  quickened  his  pace,  because  he  says  that 
old  man  makes  him  miserable,  and  it  makes  him  melancholy 
to  talk  with  him.  No ;  just  go  to  him  and  say,  "  Brother,  I 
hear  you  are  in  the  valley  of  Baca ;  well,  it  is  written,  they 
that  pass  through  the  valley  of  Baca  make  it  a  well,  the  rain 
also  filleth  the  pools."  Join  yourself  to  him,  for  it  is  written, 
"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people."  "  No,  sir,"  you  say, 
"  I  intend  to  go  to-night  with  one  or  two  very  good  people, 
and  we  shall  enjoy  ourselves  together,  and  be  very  glad  to- 
night." Yes,  but  if  they  be  glad  you  can  not  comfort  them,* 
so  go  and  seek  out  some  broken-hearted  one  if  thou  canst, 
some  poor,  sad,  mourning' one,  and  say,  "  The  Lord  hath  ap- 
peared to  thee  of  old,  saying,  'I  have  loved  thee  with  an 
everlasting  love.'  God's  mercies  have  not  failed,  and,  there- 
fore, we  are  not  consumed."  Go  and  cheer  him.  What !  are 
there  no  families  near  you  where  the  head  has  lately  been  re- 
moved by  death  ?  Have  you  no  bereaved  friends  ?  have  you 
no  poor  in  your  streets,  no  distressed,  no  desponding  ones  ? 
If  you  have  not,  then  yonder  Scripture  might  be  rent  out  of 
the  Bible,  for  it  would  be  useless ;  but  because  I  am  sure  you 
have  such,  I  bid  you,  in  God  Almighty's  name,  to  go  and  seek 
out  the  needy,  the  distressed,  and  the  poor,  and  send  them 
portions  of  meat.     "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people." 

III.  In  the  last  place.  God  never  gives  his  children  a  duty 
to  do  without  giving  them  the  means  to  do  it  ;  he  never  bids 
them  make  bricks  without  straw,  and  when  he  telfe  us  to  com- 
fort God's  people,  we  may  be  certain  there  are  many  means 
whereby  they  may  be  comforted.  Let  me  just  hint  at  those 
things  in  the  everlasting  gospel  which  have  a  tendency  to  com- 
fort the  saints.  What,  child  of  God !  Art  thou  at  a  loss  for  a 
topic  to  comfort  the  aching  heart  ?  Hark  thee,  then  ;  go  tell 
of  the  ancient  things  of  former  days  ;  whisper  in  the  mourn- 
er's ear  electing  grace,  and  redeeming  mercy,  and  dying  love. 
When  thou  findest  a  troubled  one,  tell  him  of  the  covenant, 
in  all  things  ordered  well,  signed,  sealed,  and  ratified  ;  tell  him 
what  the  Lord  hath  done  in  former  days,  how  he  cut  Rahab 


COMFORT   PEOCLAIMED.  209 

and  wounded  the  dragon ;  tell  him  the  wondrous  story  of 
God's  dealings  with  his  people.  Tell  him  that  God  who  divided 
the  Red  sea  can  make  a  highway  for  his  people  through  the 
deep  waters  of  affliction  ;  that  he  who  appeared  in  the  burning 
bush  which  was  not  consumed,  will  support  him  in  the  furnace 
of  tribulation.  Tell  him  of  the  marvelous  things  which  God 
has  wrought  for  his  chosen  people :  surely  there  is  enough 
there  to  comfort  him.  Tell  him  that  watcheth  the  furnace  as 
the  goldsmith  the  refining  pot. 

"  Thy  days  of  trial  then 

Are  all  ordained  by  heaven ; 
If  he  appoint  the  number  '  ten,' 
You  ne'er  shall  have  eleven." 

If  that  does  not  suffice,  tell  him  of  his  present  mercies ;  tell 
him  that  he  has  much  left,  though  much  is  gone.  Tell  him 
there  is  "  now  no  condemnation  to  them  which  are  in  Christ 
Jesus ;"  tell  him  that  now  he  is  accepted  in  the  Beloved  ;  tell 
him  that  he  is  now  adopted,  and  that  his  standing  is  safe.  Tell 
him  that  Jesus  is  above,  wearing  the  breast-plate,  or  pleading 
his  cause.  Tell  him  that  though  earth's  pillars  shake,  God  is 
a  refuge  for  us;  tell  the  mourner  that  the  everlasting  God  fail- 
eth  not,  neither  is  weary.  Let  present  facts  suffice  thee  to 
cheer  him. 

^  But  if  this  is  not  enough,  tell  him  of  the  future ;  whisper  to 
him  that  there  is  a  heaven  with  pearly  gates  and  golden  streets ; 
tell  him  that 

"  A  few  more  rolling  suns  at  most, 
Will  land  him  on  fair  Canaan's  coast," 

and  therefore  he  may  well  bear  his  sorrows.  Tell  him  that 
Chnst  is  coming,  and  that  his  sign  is  in  the  heavens,  his  ad- 
vent is  near,  he  will  soon  appear  to  judge  the  earth  with  equity, 
and  his  people  in  righteousness.  And  if  that  suffice  not,  tell 
liira  all  about  that  God  who  lived  and  died.  Take  him  to 
(Calvary ;  picture  to  him  the  bleeding  hands,  and  side,  and 
feet ;  tell  him  of  the  thorn-crowned  King  of  grief;  full  him 
of  the  mighty  Monarch  of  woe  and  blood,  who  wore  the  scar- 
let of  mockery  which  was  yet  the  purple  of  the  empire  of 


210  COMPORT  PROCLAIMED. 

grief;  tell  him  that  he  himself  bore  our  sins  in  his  own  body 
on  the  tree.  And  if  I  have  not  said  enough,  go  to  thy  Bible, 
read  its  pages,  bend  thy  knee  and  ask  for  guidance,  and  then 
tell  him  some  great  and  precious  promise,  that  so  thou  mayest 
accomplish  thy  mission,  and  comfort  one  of  God's  people. 

I  have  but  a  few  words  to  say  to  some,  who,  I  grieve  to 
think,  w^ant  no  comfort.  They  want  something  else  before 
they  can  be  comforted.  Some  of  my  hearers  are  not  God's 
people ;  they  have  never  believed  in  Christ,  nor  fled  to  him 
for  refuge.  Now  I  will  tell  you  briefly  and  plainly  the  way 
of  salvation.  Sinner!  know  that  thou  art  in  God's  sight 
guilty,  that  God  is  just  and  that  he  will  punish  thee  for  thy 
sins.  Hark  thee,  then  :  there  is  only  one  way  by  which  thou 
canst  escape,  and  it  is  this :  Christ  must  be  thy  substitute. 
Either  thou  must  die,  or  Christ  must  die  for  thee.  Thy  only 
refuge  is  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  whereby  thou  shalt  be  assured 
that  Christ  did  really  and  actually  shed  his  blood  for  thee. 
And  if  you  are  able  to  believe  that  Christ  died  for  you,  I  know 
it  will  cause  you  to  hate  sin,  to  seek  Christ,  and  to  love  and 
serve  him  world  without  end.  May  God  bless  us  all,  forgive 
us  our  sins,  and  accept  our  souls  for  Jesus'  sake ! 


SERMON  XIII. 

THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVINESS  AND  REJOICING. 

"  Wherein  ye  greatly  rejoice,  though  now  for  a  season,  if  need  be,  ye  are  in 
heaviness  through  manifold  temptations." — 1  Petee,  i.  6. 

This  verse  to  a  worldly  man  looks  amazingly  like  a  contra- 
diction ;  and  even  to  a  Christian  man,  when  he  understands  it 
best,  it  will  still  be  a  paradox.  "  Ye  greatly  rejoice,"  and  yet 
"ye  are  in  heaviness."  Is  that  possible?  Can  there  be  in 
the  same  heart  great  rejoicing,  and  yet  a  temporary  heaviness  ? 
Most  assuredly.  This  paradox  has  been  known  and  felt  by 
many  of  the  Lord's  children,  and  it  is  far  from  being  the 
greatest  paradox  of  the  Christian  life.  Men  who  live  within 
themselves,  and  mark  their  own  feelings  as  Christians,  will 
often  stand  and  wonder  at  themselves.  Of  all  riddles,  the 
greatest  riddle  is  a  Christian  man.  As  to  his  pedigree,  what 
a  riddle  he  is !  He  is  a  child  of  the  first  Adam,  "  an  heir  of 
wrath,  even  as  others."  He  is  a  child  of  the  second  Adam : 
he  was  born  free ;  there  is  therefore  now  no  condemnation 
unto  him.  He  is  a  riddle  in  his  own  existence.  "  As  dying, 
and  behold  we  live ;  as  chastened,  and  not  killed."  He  is  a 
riddle  as  to  the  component  parts  of  his  own  spiritual  frame. 
He  finds  that  which  makes  him  akin  to  the  devil — depravity, 
corruption,  binding  him  still  to  the  earth,  and  causing  him  to 
cry  out,  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am  ;"  and  yet  he  finds  that 
he  has  within  himself  that  which  exalts  him,  not  merely  to  the 
rank  of  an  angel,  but  higher  still — a  something  which  raises 
him  up  together,  and  makes  him  "  sit  together  with  Christ 
Jesus  in  heavenly  places."  He  finds  that  he  has  that  within 
him  which  must  ripen  into  heaven,  and  yet  that  about  him 
which  would  inevitably  ripen  into  hell,  if  grace  did  not  forbid. 
What  wonder,  then,  beloved,  if  the  Christian  man  be  a  para- 


212  THE   CHKISTIAN'S   HEAVINESS   AND   EEJOICriS"G. 

dox  himself,  that  his  condition  should  be  a  paradox  too  ?  Why- 
marvel  ye,  when  ye  see  a  creature  corrupt  and  yet  purified,  mor- 
tal and  yet  immortal,  fallen  but  yet  exalted  far  above  principali- 
ties and  powers — why  marvel  ye,  that  ye  should  find  that  crea- 
ture also  possessed  of  mingled  experience,  greatly  rejoicing,  and 
yet,  at  the  same  time,  "in  heaviness  through  manifold  tempta- 
tions." 

I  would  have  you  this  morning,  look  first  of  all  at  the  Chris- 
tiarCs  heaviness  :  he  is  "  in  heaviness  through  manifold  temp- 
tations ;"  and  then,  in  the  next  place,  at  the  Christian'' s  great 
rejoicing. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  his  heaviness.  This  is  one  of  the 
most  unfortunate  texts  in  the  Bible.  I  have  heard  it  quoted 
ten  thousand  times  for  my  own  comfort,  but  I  never  under- 
stood it  till  a  day  or  two  ago.  On  referring  to  most  of  the 
commentaries  in  my  possession,  I  can  not  find  that  they  have 
a  right  idea  of  the  meaning  of  this  text.  You  will  notice  that 
your  friends  often  say  to  you  when  you  are  in  trouble,  "  There 
is  a  needs  be  for  this  affliction  ;"  there  is  a  needs  be,  say  they, 
"  for  all  these  trials  and  troubles  that  befall  you."  That  is  a 
very  correct  and  scriptural  sentiment ;  but  that  sentiment  is 
not  in  the  text  at  all.  And  yet,  whenever  this  text  is  quoted 
in  my  hearing,  that  is  what  I  am  always  told,  or  what  I  con- 
ceive I  am  always  told  to  be  the  meaning — that  the  great 
temptations,  the  great  trials  which  befall  us,  have  a  needs  be 
for  them.  But  it  does  not  say  so  here:  it  says  something 
better ;  not  only  that  there  is  a  needs  be  for  our  temptations, 
but  that  there  is  a  needs  be  for  our  heaviness  under  the  temp- 
tation. Now,  let  me  show  you  the  difference.  There  is  a 
man  of  God,  full  of  faith — strong ;  he  is  about  to  do  his  Mas- 
ter's work,  and  he  does  it.  God  is  with  him,  and  gives  him 
great  success.  The  enemy  begins  to  slander  him  ;  all  manner 
of  evil  is  spoken  against  him  falsely  for  Christ's  name  sake. 
You  say,  there  is  a  needs  be  for  that,  and  you  are  quite  cor- 
rect ;  but  look  at  the  man.  How  gallantly  he  behaves  him- 
self! He  lifts  his  head  above  his  accusers,  and  unmoved 
amidst  them  all,  he  stands  like  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  a  roar- 
ing tempest,  never  moved  from  the  firm  basis  on  which  it 


THE   CHEISTIAN'S    HEAVINESS   AND   REJOICING.  213 

rests.  The  scene  changes,  and  instead  of  calamity,  perhaps  he 
is  called  to  endure  absolute  persecution,  as  in  apostolic  times. 
We  imagine  the  man  driven  out  from  house  and  home,  sepa- 
rated fi-om  all  his  kindred,  made  to  wander  in  the  pathless 
snows  of  the  mountains ;  and  what  a  brave  and  mighty  man 
he  appeal's,  when  you  see  him  endunng  all  this  !  His  spirits 
never  sink..  "  All  this  can  I  do,"  says  he,  "  and  I  can  greatly  re- 
joice in  it,  for  Christ's  name's  sake  ;  for  I  can  practice  the  text 
which  says,  '  Rejoice  ye  in  that  day  and  leap  for  joy  ;' "  and  you 
will  tell  that  man  there  is  a  needs  be  for  his  persecution  ;  he 
says,  "  Yes,  I  know  it,  and  I  fear  not  all  I  have  to  endure  ;  I  am 
not  cowed  byit."  At  last  imagine  the  man  taken  before  the 
Inquisition  and  condemned  to  die.  You  still  comfort  him 
with  the  fact,  that  there  is  a  needs  be  that  he  shall  die — that 
the  blood  of  the  martyrs  must  be  the  seed  of  the  church — 
that  the  world  can  never  be  overcome  by  Chiist's  gospel,  ex- 
cept through  the  sufferings  and  death  of  his  followers — ^that 
Chi-ist  stooped  to  conquer,  and  the  church  must  do  the  same 
— ^that  through  death  and  blood  must  be  the  road  to  the 
church's  victory.  And  what  a  noble  sight  it  is,  to  see  that 
man  going  to  the  stake,  and  kissing  it — looking  upon  his  iron 
chains  with  as  much  esteem  as  if  they  had  been  chains  of 
gold.  Now  tell  him  there  is  a  needs  be  for  all  this,  and  he 
will  thank  you  for  the  promise  ;  and  you  admire  the  man ; 
you  wonder  at  him.  Ah  !  but  there  is  another  class  of  per- 
sons that  get  no  such  honor  as  this.  There  is  another  sort  of 
Christians  for  whom  this  promise  really  was  intended,  who  do 
not  get  the  comfort  of  it.  I  do  admire  the  man  I  have  pic- 
tured to  you  ;  may  God  long  preserve  such  men  in  the  midst 
of  the  church  ;  I  would  stimulate  every  one  of  you  to  imitate 
him.  Seek  for  great  faith  and  great  love  to  your  Master,  that 
you  may  be  able  to  endure,  being  "  steadfast,  immovable, 
always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord."  But  remember, 
that  this  text  has  not  in  it  comfort  for  such  persons ;  there 
are  other  texts  for  them  ;  this  text  has  been  perverted  for 
such  a  use  as  that.  This  is  meant  for  another  and  a  feebler 
grade  of  Christians,  who  are  often  overlooked  and  sometimes 
despised. 


214  THE   CHEISTIAN'S    HEAVINESS   AND   EEJOICING. 

I  was  lying  upon  my  couch  during  this  last  week,  and  ray 
spirits  were  sunken  so  low  that  I  could  weep  by  the  hour  like 
a  child,  and  yet  I  knew  not  what  I  wept  for — but  a  very  slight 
thing  will  move  me  to  tears  just  now — and  a  kind  friend  was 
telling  me  of  some  poor  old  soul  living  near,  who  was  suffering 
very  great  pain,  and  yet  she  was  full  of  joy  and  rejoicing.  I 
was  so  distressed  by  the  hearing  of  that  story,  and  felt  so 
ashamed  of  myself,  that  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  ;  wondering 
why  I  should  be  in  such  a  state  as  this  ;  while  this  poor  woman, 
who  had  a  terrible  cancer,  and  was  in  the  most  frightful  ^gony, 
could  nevertheless  "  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of 
glory."  And  in  a  moment  this  text  flashed  upon  my  mind, 
with  its  real  meaning.  I  am  sure  it  is  its  real  meaning.  Read 
it  over  and  over  again,  and  you  will  see  I  am  not  wrong. 
"Though  now  for  a  season,  if  need  be,  ye  are  in  heaviness." 
It  does  not  say,  *'  Though  now  for  a  season  ye  are  suffering 
pain,  though  now  for  a  season  you  are  poor ;  but  you  are  '  in 
heaviness ;' "  your  spirits  are  taken  away  from  you ;  you  are 
made  to  weep  ;  you  can  not  bear  your  pain  ;  you  are  brought 
to  the  very  dust  of  death,  and  wish  that  you  might  die.  Your 
faith  itself  seems  as  if  it  would  fail  you.  That  is  the  thing  for 
which  there  is  a  needs  be.  That  is  what  my  text  declares, 
that  there  is  an  absolute  needs  be  that  sometimes  the  Chiistian 
should  not  endure  his  sufferings  with  a  gallant  and  a  joyous 
heart ;  there  is  a  needs  be  that  sometimes  his  spirits  should 
sink  within  him,  and  that  he  should  become  even  as  a  little 
child,  smitten  beneath  the  hand  of  God.  Ah !  beloved,  we 
sometimes  talk  about  the  rod,  but  it  is  one  thing  to  see  the 
rod,  and  it  is  another  thing  to  feel  it ;  and  many  a  time  liave 
we  said  within  ourselves,  "  If  I  did  not  feel  so  low  spirited  as 
I  now  do,  I  should  not  mind  this  affliction ;"  and  what  is  that 
but  saying,  "  If  I  did  not  feel  the  rod  I  should  not  mind  it  ?" 
It  is  just  how  you  feel,  that  is,  after  all,  the  pith  and  marrow 
of  your  affliction.  It  is  that  breaking  down  of  the  spirit,  that 
pulling  down  of  the  strong  man,  that  is  the  very  fester  of  the 
soreness  of  God's  scourging — "the  blueness  of  the  wound 
whereby  the  soul  is  made  better."  I  think  this  one  idea  has 
been  enough  to  be  food  for  me  many  a  day  j  and  there  may 


THE   CHRISTIAN'S   HEATTNESS  AND   EEJOICTITG.  216 

be  some  child  of  God  here  to  whom  it  may  bring  some  slight 
portion  of  comfort.  We  will  yet  again  dwell  upon  it. 
"  Though  now  for  a  season,  if  need  be,  ye  are  in  heaviness 
through  manifold  temptations." 

And  here  let  me  for  a  moment  or  two  try  to  explain  why  it 
is  that  there  is  an  absolute  needs  be,  not  merely  for  tempta- 
tions and  troubles,  but  likewise  for  our  being  in  heaviness 
under  them. 

In  the  first  place,  if  we  were  not  in  heaviness  during  our 
troubles  we  should  not  be  like  our  Covenant  head — Christ 
Jesus.  It  is  a  rule  of  the  kingdom  that  all  the  members  must 
be  like  the  head.  They  are  to  be  like  the  head  in  that  day 
when  he  shall  appear.  "  Wo  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall 
see  him  as  he  is."  But  we  must  be  like  the  head  also  in  his 
humiliation,  or  else  we  can  not  be  like  him  in  his  glory.  Now, 
you  will  observe  that  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  very 
often  passed  through  much  of  trouble  without  any  heaviness. 
When  he  said,  "  Foxes  ha^^e  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air 
have  nests,  but  the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his 
head,"  I  observe  no  heaviness.  I  do  not  think  he  sighed 
over  that.  And  when  athirst  he  sat  upon  the  well,  and  said, 
"  Give  me  to  diink,"  there  was  no  heaviness  in  all  his  thirst. 
I  believe  that  through  the  first  years  of  his  ministry,  altliough 
he  might  have  suffered  some  heaviness,  he  usually  passed  over 
his  troubles  like  a  ship  floating  over  the  waves  of  the  sea. 
But  you  will  remember  that  at  last  the  waves  of  swelling  grief 
came  into  the  vessel ;  at  last  the  Saviour  himself,  though  full 
of  patience,  was  obliged  to  say,  "  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrow- 
ful, even  unto  death  ;"  ,and  one  of  the  evangelists  tells  us  that 
the  Saviour  "  began  to  be  very  heavy."  What  means  that 
but  that  his  spirits  began  to  sink  ?  There  is  a  more  terrible 
meaning  yet,  which  I  can  not  enter  into  this  morning;  but  still 
I  may  say  that  the  surface  meaning  of  it  is  that  all  his  spirits 
sank  within  him.  He  had  no  longer  his  wonted  courage,  and 
though  he  had  strength  to  say,  "  Nevertheless,  not  my  will, 
but  thine  be  done ;"  still  the  weakness  did  prevail,  when  he 
said,  "  If  it  be  possible  let  this  cup  pass  from  me."  The 
Saviour  passed  through  the  brook,  but  he  "  drank  of  the  brook 


216  THE   CHEISTIAK'S    HEAVINESS   AND   REJOICING. 

by  the  way ;"  and  we  who  pass  through  the  brook  of  suffering 
must  drink  of  it  too.  He  had  to  bear  thie  burden,  not  with 
his  shoulders  omnipotent,  but  with  shoulders  that  were  bend- 
ing to  the  earth  beneath  a  load.  And  you  and  I  must  not 
always  expect  a  giant  faith  that  can  remove  mountains ;  some- 
times even  to  us  the  grasshopper  must  be  a  burden,  that  we 
may  in  all  things  be  like  unto  our  head. 

Yet,  again,  if  the  Christian  did  not  sometimes  suffer  heavi- 
ness he  would  begin  to  grow  too  proud,  and  think  too  much 
of  himself,  and  become  too  great  in  his  own  esteem.  Those 
of  us  who  are  of  elastic  spirit,  and  who  in  our  health  are  full 
of  every  thing  that  can  make  life  happy,  are  too  apt  to  forget 
the  Most  High  God.  Lest  we  should  be  satisfied  from  our- 
selves, and  forget  that  all  our  own  springs  must  be  in  him,  the 
Lord  sometimes  seems  to  sap  the  springs  of  life,  to  drain  the 
heart  of  all  its  spirits,  and  to  leave  ns  without  soul  or  strength 
for  mirth,  so  that  the  noise  of  tabret  and  of  viol  would  be 
unto  us  as  but  the  funeral  dirge,  without  joy  or  gladness. 
Then  it  is  that  we  discover  what  we  are  made  of,  and  out  of 
the  depths  we  cry  unto  God,  humbled  by  our  adversities. 

Another  reason  for  this  discipline  is,  I  think,  that  in  heavi- 
ness we  often  learn  lessons  that  we  never  could  attain  else- 
where. Do  you  know  that  God  has  beauties  for  every  part 
of  the  world  ;  and  he  has  beauties  for  every  place  of  experience  ? 
There  are  views  to  be  seen  from  the  tops  of  the  Alps  that  you 
can  never  see  elsewhere.  Ay,  but  there  are  beauties  to  be 
seen  in  the  depths  of  the  dell  that  ye  could  never  see  on  the 
tops  of  the  mountains  ;  there  are  glories  to  be  seen  on  Pisgah, 
wondrous  sights  to  be  beheld  when  by  faith  we  stand  on 
Tabor ;  but  there  are  also  beauties  to  be  seen  in  our  Geth- 
semanes,  and  some  marvelously  sweet  flowers  are  to  be  culled 
by  the  edge  of  the  dens  of  the  leopards.  Men  will  never  be- 
come great  in  divinity  until  they  become  great  in  suffering. 
"  Ah !"  said  Luther,  "  affliction  is  the  best  book  in  my  library  ;" 
and  let  me  add,  the  best  leaf  in  the  book  of  affliction  is  that 
blackest  of  all  the  leaves,  the  leaf  called  heaviness,  when  the 
spirit  sinks  within  us,  and  we  can  not  endure  as  we  could 
wish. 


THE   CHEISTIAN'S    HEAVINESS    AXD    REJOICING.  2l7 

And  yet  again ;  this  heaviness  is  of  essential  use  to  a  Chris- 
tian, if  he  would  do  good  to  others.  Ah  !  there  are  a  great 
many  Christian  people  that  I  was  going  to  say  I  should  like  to 
see  afflicted — but  I  will  not  say  so  much  as  that ;  I  should  like 
to  see  them  heavy  in  spirit ;  if  it  were  the  Lord's  will  that 
they  should  be  bowed  down  greatly,  I  would  not  express  a 
word  of  regret ;  for  a  httle  more  sympathy  would  do  them 
good  ;  a  little  more  power  to  sympathize  would  be  a  precious 
boon  to  them,  and  even  if  it  were  purcfiased  by  a  short  jour- 
ney through  a  burning,  fiery  furnace,  they  might  not  rue  the 
day  afterwards  in  which  they  had  been  called  to  pass  through 
the  flame.  There  are  none  so  tender  as  those  who  have  been 
skinned  themselves.  Those  who  have  been  in  the  chamber  of 
affliction  know  how  to  comfort  those  who  are  there.  Do  not 
believe  that  any  man  will  become  a  physician  unless  he  walks 
the  hospitals ;  and  I  am  sure  that  no  one  will  become  a  divine, 
or  become  a  comforter,  unless  he  lies  in  the  hospital  as  well  as 
walks  through  it,  and  has  to  sufflgr  himself  God  can  not  make 
ministers — and  I  speak  with  reverence  of  his  holy  Name — he 
can  not  make  a  Barnabas  except  in  the  fire.  It  is  there,  and 
there  alone,  that  he  can  make  his  sons  of  consolation  ;  he  may 
make  his  sons  of  thunder  anywhere ;  but  his  sons  of  consola- 
tion he  must  make  in  the  fire,  and  there  alone.  Who  shall 
speak  to  those  whose  heai*ts  are  broken,  who  shall  bind  up 
their  wounds,  but  those  whose  hearts  have  been  broken  also, 
and  whose  wounds  have  long  run  with  the  sore  of  grief?  *'If 
need  be,"  then,  "  ye  are  in  heaviness  through  manifold  temp- 
tations." 

I  think  I  have  said  enough  about  this  heaviness,  except  that 
I  must  add  it  is  but  for  a  season.  A  little  time,  a  few  hours, 
a  few  days,  a  few  months  at  most,  it  shall  all  have  passed 
away ;  and  then  comes  the  "  eternal  weight  of  glory,  wherein 
ye  greatly  rejoice." 

II.  And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  text.  Here  we  have 
something  far  more  joyous  and  comfortable  than  the  first. 
"Whebein  YE  GREATLY  REJOICE."  And  can  a  Christian 
greatly  rejoice  while  he  is  in  heaviness  ?  Yes,  most  assuredly 
he  can.     Mariners  tell  us  that  there  are  some  parts  of  the  sea 

10 


218  THE   CHRISTIAN'S   HEAVINESS   AND  REJOICING. 

where  there  is  a  strong  current  upon  the  surface  going  one 
way,  but  that  down  in  the  depths  there  is  a  strong  current 
running  the  other  w'ay.  Two  seas  do  not  meet  and  interfere 
with  one  another ;  but  one  stream  of  water  on  the  surface  is 
running  in  one  direction,  and  another  below  in  an  opposite  di- 
rection. Now,  the  Christian  is  like  that.  On  the  surface  there 
is  a  stream  of  heaviness  rolling  with  dark  waves ;  but  down 
in  the  depths  there  is  a  strong  under-current  of  great  rejoicing 
that  is  always  flowing  there.  Do  you  ask  me  what  is  the 
cause  of  this  great  rejoicing  ?  The  apostle  tells  us,  ^^  Wherein 
ye  greatly  rejoice."  What  does  he  mean  ?  You  must  refer 
to  his  own  Avritings,  and  then  you  will  see.  He  is  writing  "  to 
the  strangers  scattered  throughout  Pontus,"  and  so  forth. 
The  first  thing  that  he  says  to  them  is,  that  they  are  "  elect 
according  to  the  foreknowledge  of  God  ;"  "  wherein  we  greatly 
rejoice."  Ah  !  even  when  the  Christian  is  most  "  in  heaviness 
through  manifold  temptations,"  what  a  mercy  it  is  that  he  can 
know  that  he  is  still  elect  of  God !  Any  man  who  is  assured 
that  God  has  "  chosen  him  from  befoi'e  the  foundation  of  the 
world,"  may  well  say,  "  Wherein  we  greatly  rejoice."  Let 
me  be  lying  upon  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  just  revel  in  that 
one  tliought.  Before  God  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth, 
and  laid  the  pillars  of  the  firmament  in  their  golden  sockets, 
he  set  his  love  upon  me ;  upon  the  breast  of  the  great  high 
priest  he  wrote  my  name,  and  in  his  everlasting  book  it  stands, 
never  to  be  erased — "  elect  according  to  the  foreknowledge 
of  God."  Why,  this  may  make  a  man's  soul  leap  within  him, 
and  all  the  heaviness  that  the  infirmities  of  the  flesh  may  lay 
upon  him  shall  be  but  as  nothing ;  for  this  tremendous  current 
of  his  oveiflowing  joy  shall  sweep  away  tlie  mill  dam  of  his 
grief.  Bursting  and  overleaping  every  obstacle,  it  shall  over- 
flood  all  his  sorrows  till  they  are  drowned  and  covered  up, 
and  shall  not  be  mentioned  any  more  for  ever.  "  Wherein  we 
greatly  rejoice."  Come,  thou  Christian  !  thou  art  dei^ressed 
and  cast  down.  Think  for  a  moment.  Thou  art  chosen  of 
God  and  precious.  Let  the  bell  of  election  ring  in  thine  ear 
— that  ancient  Sabbath  bell  of  the  covenant;  and  let  thy  name 
"be  heard  in  its  notes  and  say,  I  beseech  thee  say,  "  Doth  not 


THE   christian's   HEAVINESS   AND   REJOICING.  219 

this  make  thee  greatly  rejoice,  though  now  for  a  season,  if  need 
be,  thou  art  in  heaviness  through  manifold  temptations  ?" 

Again,  you  will  see  another  reason.  The  apostle  says  that 
we  are  "  elect  through  sanctification  of  the  spirit  unto  obedi- 
ence and  sprinkling  of  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ" — "  wherein 
we  greatly  rejoice."  Is  the  obedience  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
girt  about  my  loins,  to  be  my  beauty  and  my  glorious  dress  ; 
aud  is  the  blood  of  Jesus  sprinkled  upon  me,  to  take  away  all 
my  guilt  and  all  my  sin  ;  and  shall  I  not  in  this  greatly  rejoice  ? 
What  shall  there  be  in  all  the  depressions  of  spirits  that  can 
possibly  come  upon  me  that  shall  make  me  break  my  harp, 
even  though  I  should  for  a  moment  hang  it  upon  the  willows  ? 
Do  I  not  expect  that  yet  again  my  songs  shall  mount  to 
heaven  ;  and  even  now  through  the  thick  darkness  do  not  the 
sparks  of  my  joy  appear,  when  I  remember  that  I  have  still 
upon  me  the  blood  of  Jesus,  and  still  about  me  the  glorious 
righteousness  of  the  Messiah  ? 

But  the  great  and  cheering  comfort  of  the  apostle  is,  that 
we  are  elect  unto  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  and  undefiled, 
and  that  fadeth  not  away,  reserved  in  heaven  for  us.  And 
here,  brethren,  is  the  grand  comfort  of  the  Christian.  When 
the  child  of  God  is  sore  stricken  and  much  depressed,  the 
sweet  hope,  that  living  or  dying,  there  is  an  inheritance  incor- 
ruptible, reserved  in  heaven  for  him,  may  indeed  make  him 
greatly  rejoice.  He  is  drawing  near  the  gates  of  death,  and 
his  spirit  is  in  heaviness,  for  he  has  to  leave  behind  him  all  his 
family  and  all  that  life  holds  dear.  Besides,  his  sickness  brings 
upon  him  naturally  a  depression  of  spirit.  But  you  sit  by  his 
bed  side,  and  you  begin  to  talk  to  him  of  the 

"  Sweet  flelds  beyond  the  swelling  flood, 
Arrayed  in  living  green." 

You  tell  him  of  Canaan  on  the  other  side  the  Jordan — of  the 
land  that  lioweth  with  milk  and  honey — of  the  Lamb  in  the 
midst  of  the  throne,  and  of  all  the  glories  which  God  hath 
prepared  for  them  that  love  him  ;  and  you  see  his  dull  leaden 
eye  light  up  with  serapiiic  brightuess ;  he  shakes  off  his  heavi- 
ness, and  he  begins  to  sing, 


220         THE  christian's  heaviness  and  rejoicing. 

*'  On  Jordan's  stormy  banks  I  stand, 
And  cast  a  wishful  eye 
To  Canaan's  fair  and  happy  land, 
Where  my  possessions  lie." 

This  makes  him  greatly  rejoice ;  and  if  to  that  you  add  that 
possibly  before  he  has  passed  the  gates  of  death  his  Master 
may  appear — if  you  tell  him  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is 
coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  though  we  have  not  seen 
him,  yet  believing  in  him  we  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and 
full  of  glory,  expecting  the  second  advent — if  he  has  grace  to 
believe  in  that  sublime  doctrine,  he  will  be  ready  to  clap  his 
hands  upon  his  bed  of  weariness  and  cry,  "  Even  so,  Lord 
Jesus,  come  quickly !  come  quickly  !" 

And  in  drawing  to  a  close,  I  may  notice,  there  is  one  more 
doctrine  that  will  always  cheer  a  Christian,  and  I  think  that  this 
perhaps  is  the  one  chiefly  intended  here  in  the  text.  Look  at  the 
end  of  the  15th  verse  :  "  Reserved  in  heaven  for  you  who  are 
kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto  salvation  ;"  this 
perhaps  will  be  one  of  the  greatest  cordials  to  a  Christian  in 
heaviness,  that  he  is  not  kept  by  his  own  power,  but  by  the 
power  of  God,  and  that  he  is  not  left  in  his  own  keeping,  but 
he  is  kept  by  the  Most  High.  Ah  !  what  should  you  and  I  do 
in  the  day  when  darkness  gathers  round  our  faith  if  we  had  to 
keep  ourselves !  I  can  never  understand  what  an  Arminian 
does,  when  he  gets  into  sickness,  sorrow,  and  aflliction ;  from 
what  well  he  draws  his  comfort,  I  know  not ;  but  I  know 
whence  I  draw  mine.  It  is  this  :  "  When  flesh  and  heart 
faileth,  God  is  the  strength  of  my  life,  and  my  portion  for 
ever."  "  I  know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  I  am  persuaded 
that  he  is  able  to  keep  that  v,4nch  I  have  committed  unto  him 
against  that  day."  But  take  away  tliat  doctrine  of  the  Saviour's 
keeping  his  people,  and  where  is  my  hope  ?  What  is  there  in 
the  gospel  worth  my  preaching,  or  worth  your  receiving  ?  I 
know  that  he  hath  said,  "  I  give  unto  my  sheep  eternal  life, 
and  they  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them 
out  of  my  hand."  What,  Lord,  but  suppose  they  should  grow 
faint — that  they  should  begin  to  murmur  in  their  affliction. 
Shall  they  perish  then  ?     No,  they  shall  never  perish.     But 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S    HEAVINESS   AND   REJOICING.  221 

suppose  the  pain  should  grow  so  hot  that  their  faith  should 
fail :  shall  they  not  perish  then  ?  No,  "  they  shall  not  perish, 
neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out  of  ray  hand."  But  sup- 
pose their  sense  should  seem  to  wander,  and  some  should  try 
to  pei-vert  them  from  the  faith  :  shall  they  not  be  perverted  ? 
Ko ;  "  they  shall  never  perish."  But  suppose  in  some  hour 
of  their  extremity,  hell  and  the  world  and  their  own  fears 
should  all  beset  them,  and  they  should  have  no  power  to  stand 
— no  power  whatever  to  resist  the  fierce  onslaughts  of  the 
enemy,  shall  they  not  perish  then  ?  No,  they  are  "  kept  by 
the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto  salvation,  ready  to  be 
revealed,"  and  "they  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  man 
pluck  them  out  of  my  hand."  Ah  !  this  is  the  doctrine,  the 
cheering  assurance  "  wherein  we  greatly  rejoice,  though  now 
for  a  season,  if  need  be,  we  are  in  heaviness  through  manifold 
temptations." 

One  word  before  I  send  you  away.  There  are  some  of  you 
here  to  whom  this  precious  passage  has  not  a  word  to  say. 
Our  heaviness,  O  worldling,  "  our  heaviness  is  but  for  a  season." 
Your  heaviness  is  to  come  ;  and  it  shall  be  a  heaviness  intoler- 
able, because  hopelessly  everlasting.  Our  temptations,  though 
they  be  manifold,  are  but  light  afflictions  and  are  but  for  a 
moment,  and  they  "work  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  etemal  weight  of  glory ;"  but  your  joys  that  you  now 
have  are  evanescent  as  a  bubble,  and  they  are  passing  away, 
and  they  are  working  out  for  you  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  misery.  I  beseech  you,  look  at  this  matter. 
Search  and  see  whether  all  be  right  with  your  spirits — whether 
it  be  well  for  you  to  venture  into  an  eternal  state  as  you  are  ; 
and  may  God  give  you  grace,  that  you  may  feel  your  need  of  a 
Saviour,  that  you  may  seek  Christ,  lay  hold  upon  him,  and  so 
may  come  into  a  gracious  state,  wherein  ye  shall  greatly  re- 
joice, even  though  for  a  season,  if  needs  be,  ye  should  be  in 
heaviness  through  manifold  temptations  I  * 


SERMON  XIV. 
THE  EVIL  AND  ITS  REMEDY. 

"  The  iniquity  of  the  house  of  Israel  and  Judah.  is  exceeding  great." — 
EZEKIEL,  ix.  9. 

"  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." — 1  John, 
LI. 

I  SHALL  have  two  texts  this  morning — the  evil  and  its 
remedy.  "  The  iniquity  of  the  house  of  Israel  and  Judah  is 
exceeding  great ;"  and  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son 
cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." 

We  can  learn  nothing  of  the  gospel,  except  by  feeling  its 
truths — no  one  truth  of  the  gospel  is  ever  truly  known  and 
really  learned,  until  we  have  tested  and  tried  and  proved  it, 
and  its  power  has  been  exercised  upon  us.  I  have  heard  of  a 
naturalist  who  thought  himself  exceedingly  wise  with  regard 
to  the  natural  history  of  birds,  and  yet  he  had  learned  all  he 
knew  in  his  study,  and  had  never  so  much  as  seen  a  bird  either 
flying  through  the  air  or  sitting  upon  its  perch.  He  was  but 
a  fool  although  he  thought  himself  exceeding  wise.  And 
there  are  some  men  who  like  him  think  themselves  great 
theologians;  they  might  even  pretend  to  take  a  doctor's 
degree  in  divinity ;  and  yet,  if  we  came  to  the  root  of  the 
matter,  and  asked  them  whether  they  ever  saw  or  felt  any  of 
those  things  of  which  they  talked,  they  would  have  to  say, 
*■'  No  ;  I  know  these  things  in  the  letter,  but  not  in  the  spirit ; 
I  understand  them  as  a  matter  of  theory,  but  not  as  things  of 
my  own  consciousness  and  experience."  Be  assured,  that  as 
the  naturalist  who  was  merely  the  student  of  other  men's 
observations  knew  nothing,  so  the  man  who  pretends  to 
religion,  but  has  never  entered  into  the  depths  and  power  of 
its  doctrines,  or  felt  the  influence  of  them  upon  his  heart, 


THE   EVIL   AND   ITS    REMEDY.  223 

knows  nothing  whatever,  and  all  the  knowledge  he  pretend- 
eth  to  is  but  varnished  ignorance.  There  are  some  sciences 
that  may  be  learned  by  the  head,  but  the  science  of  Christ 
crucified  can  only  be  learned  by  the  heart. 

I  have  made  use  of  this  remark  as  the  preface  of  my  sermon, 
because  I  think  it  will  be  forced  from  each  of  our  hearts  before 
we  have  done,  if  the  two  truths  which  I  shall  consider  this 
morning,  shall  come  at  all  home  to  us  with  power.  The  first 
truth  is  the  greatness  of  our  sin.  No  man  can  know  the 
greatness  of  sin  till  he  has  felt  it,  for  there  is  no  measuring-rod 
for  sin,  except  its  condemnation  in  our  own  conscience,  when 
the  law  of  God  speaks  to  us  with  a  terror  that  may  be  felt. 
And  as  for  the  richness  of  the  blood  of  Christ  and  its  ability 
to  wash  us,  of  that  also  we  can  know  nothing  till  we  have 
ourselves  been  washed,  and  have  ourselves  proved  that  the 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God  hath  cleansed  us  from 
all  sin. 

I.  I  shall  beghi,  then,  with  the  first  doctrine  as  it  is  con- 
tained in  the  ninth  chapter  of  Ezekiel,  the  ninth  verse — "The 
iniquity  of  the  house  of  Israel  and  Judah  is  exceeding  great." 
There  are  two  great  lessons  which  every  man  must  learn,  and 
learn  by  experience,  before  he  can  be  a  Christian.  First,  he 
must  learn  that  sin  is  an  exceeding  great  and  evil  thing  ;  and 
he  must  learn  also  that  the  blood  of  Christ  is  an  exceedingly 
precious  thing,  and  is  able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost  thera 
that  come  unto  it.  The  former  lesson  we  have  before  us.  O 
may  God,  by  his  infinite  Spirit,  by  his  great  wisdom,  teach  it  to 
some  of  us  who  never  knew  it  before ! 

Some  men  imagine  that  the  gospel  was  devised,  in  some 
way  or  other,  to  soften  down  the  harshness  of  God  towards 
sin.  Ah !  how  mistaken  the  idea !  There  is  no  more  harsh 
condemnation  of  sin  anywhere  than  in  the  gospel.  Ye  shall 
go  to  Sinai,  and  ye  shall  theft  hear  its  thunders  rolling ;  ye 
shrill  behold  the  flashing  of  its  terrible  lightnings,  till,  like 
Moses,  ye  shall  exceedingly  fear  an<l  quake,  and  come  away 
declaring  that  sin  must  be  a  terrible  thing,  otherwise  the 
Holy  One  had  never  come  upon  Mount  Paran  with  all  these 
terrors  round  about  bira.     But  after  that  ye  shall  go  to  Cal 


224  THE   EVIL   AND   ITS    EEMEDY. 

vaiy ;  there  ye  shall  see  no  lightnings,  and  ye  shall  hear  no 
thunders,  but  instead  thereof,  ye  shall  hear  the  groans  of  an 
expiring  God,  and  ye  shall  behold  the  contortions  and  agonies 
of  One  who  bore 

"All  that  incarnate  God  could  bear, 
"With  strength  enough  and  none  to  spare;" 

and  then  ye  shall  say,  "  Now,  though  I  never  fear  nor  quake, 
yet  I  know  how  exceedingly  great  a  thing  sin  must  be,  since 
such  a  sacrifice  was  required  to  make  an  atonement  for  it." 
Oh !  sinners,  if  ye  come  to  the  gospel,  imagining  that  there 
ye  shall  find  an  apology  for  your  sin,  ye  have  indeed  mistaken 
your  way.  Moses  charges  you  with  sin,  and  tells  you  that  you 
are  without  excuse ;  but  as  for  the  gospel,  it  rends  away  from 
you  every  shadow  of  a  covering  ;  it  leaves  you  without  a  cloak 
for  your  sin ;  it  tells  you  that  you  have  sinned  willfully  against 
the  Most  High  God — that  ye  have  not  an  apology  that  ye  can 
possibly  make  for  all  the  iniquities  that  ye  have  committed 
against  him  ;  and  so  far  in  any  way  from  smoothing  over  your 
sin,  and  teUing  you  that  you  are  a  weak  creature,  and  there- 
fore could  not  help  your  sin,  it  charges  upon  you  the  very 
weakness  of  your  nature,  and  makes  that  itself  the  most 
damning  sin  of  all.  If  ye  seek  apologies,  better  look  even 
into  the  face  of  Moses,  when  it  is  clothed  with  all  the 
majesty  of  the  terrors  of  the  law,  than  into  the  face  of  the 
gospel,  for  that  is  more  terrible  by  far  to  him  who  seeks  to 
cloak  his  sin. 

!N"or  does  the  gospel  in  any  way  whatever  give  man  a  hope 
that  the  claims  of  the  law  will  in  any  way  be  loosened.  Some 
imagine  that  under  the  old  dispensation  God  demanded  great 
things  of  men — ^that  he  did  bind  upon  man  heavy  burdens 
that  were  grievous  to  be  borne — and  they  suppose  that  Christ 
came  into  the  world  to  put  upon  the  shoulders  of  men  a  lighter 
law,  something  which  it  would  be  more  easy  for  them  to  obey 
— a  law  which  they  can  more  readily  keep,  or  which,  if  they 
break,  would  not  come  upon  them  with  such  terrible  threat- 
enings.  Ah,  not  so.  The  gospel  came  not  into  the  world  to 
soften  down  the  law.     Till  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 


THE   EVIL   AND   ITS   EEMEDT.  225 

not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  law  shall  fail.  What  God  hath 
said  to  the  sinner  in  the  law,  he  saith  to  the  sinner  in  the  gos- 
pel. If  he  declareth  that  "  the  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die," 
the  testimony  of  the  gospel  is  not  contrary  to  the  testimony 
of  the  law.  If  he  declares  that  whosoever  breaketh  the  sacred 
law  shall  most  assuredly  be  punished,  the  gospel  also  demands 
blood  for  blood,  and  eye  for  eye,  and  tooth  for  tooth,  and  doth 
not  relax  a  solitary  jot  or  tittle  of  its  demands,  but  is  as  se- 
vere and  as  terribly  just  as  even  the  law  itself  Do  you  reply 
to  this,  that  Christ  has  certainly  softened  down  the  law  ?  I 
reply,  that  ye  know  not,  then,  the  mission  of  Christ.  What 
said  he  himself?  The  Lord  hath  said  in  the  law,  "Thou  shalt 
not  commit  adultery ;"  hath  Christ  softened  the  law  ?  No. 
Saith  he,  "  I  say  unto  you,  that  whosoever  looketh  upon  a 
woman  to  lust  after  her,  hath  committed  adultery  with  her 
already  in  his  heart."  That  is  no  softening  of  the  law.  It  is, 
as  it  were,  the  grinding  of  the  edge  of  the  terrible  sword  of 
divine  justice,  to  make  it  sharper  far  than  it  seemed  before. 
Christ  hath  not  put  out  the  furnace ;  he  rather  seemeth  to 
heat  it  seven  times  hotter.  Before  Christ  came,  sin  seemed 
unto  me  to  be  but  little ;  but  when  he  came,  sin  became  ex- 
ceeding sinful,  and  all  its  dread  heinousness  started  out  be- 
fore the  light. 

But,  says  one,  surely  the  gospel  does  in  some  degree  remove 
the  greatness  of  our  sin.  Does  it  not  soften  the  punishment 
of  sin  ?  Ah  !  no.  Ye  shall  appeal  to  Moses  ;  let  him  ascend 
the  pulpit  and  preach  to  you.  He  says,  "  The  soul  that  sin- 
neth, it  shall  die ;"  and  his  sermon  is  dread  and  terrible.  He 
sits  down.  And  now  comes  Jesus  Christ,  the  man  of  a  loving 
countenance.  What  says  he  with  regard  to  the  punishment 
of  sin  ?  Ah  !  sirs,  there  was  never  such  a  preacher  of  the 
fires  of  hell  as  Christ  was.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  all 
love,  but  he  was  all  honesty  too.  "  Never  man  spake  like  that 
man,"  when  he  came  to  speak  of  the  punishment  of  the  lost. 
What  other  prophet  was  the  author  of  such  dread  expressions 
as  these  ? — "  He  shall  burn  up  the  chaff  with  unquenchable 
fire;"  " these  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment ;"  or 
this  ? — "  Where  their  worm  dieth  not,  and  their  fire  is  not 

10* 


226  THE   EVIL   AND    ITS    REMEDY. 

quenched."  Stand  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  when  he  tells  you  of 
the  punisliment  of  sin,  and  the  effect  of  iniquity,  and  you  may 
tremble  there  far  more  than  you  would  have  done  if  Moses 
had  been  the  preacher,  and  if  Sinai  had  been  in  the  back- 
ground to  conclude  the  sermon.  No,  brethren,  the  gospel  of 
Christ  in  no  sense  whatever  helps  to  make  sin  less.  The  proc- 
lamation of  Christ  to-day  by  his  minister  is  the  same  as  the 
utterance  of  Ezekiel  of  old — "  The  iniquity  of  the  house  of  " 
Israel  and  Judah  is  exceeding  great." 

And  no\v  let  us  endeavor  to  deal  with  hearts  and  consciences 
a  moment.  My  brethren,  there  are  some  here  who  have  never 
felt  this  truth.  There  are  many  of  you  who  start  back  af- 
fi-ighted  from  it.  You  will  go  home  and  represent  me  as  one 
who  delights  to  dwell  on  certain  dark  and  terrible  things  that 
I  suppose  to  be  true — you  say  within  yourselves,  "  I  can  not, 
I  will  not,  receive  that  doctrine  of  sin  ;  I  know  I  am  a  frail 
weak  creature ;  I  have  made  a  great  many  mistakes  in  my  life — 
that  I  will  admit ;'  but  still  such  is  my  nature,  and  I  therefore 
could  not  help  it;  I  am  not  going  to  be  arraigned  before  a 
pulpit  and  condemned  as  the  chief  of  criminals ;  I  may  be  a 
sinner — I  confess  I  am,  with  all  the  rest  of  mankind — but  as 
to  my  sin  being  any  thing  so  great  as  that  man  attempts  to 
describe,  I  do  not  believe  it ;  I  reject  the  doctrine."  And 
thinkest  thou,  my  friend,  that  I  am  surprised  at  thy  doing  so  ? 
I  know  thee  who  thou  art ;  it  is  because  as  yet  the  grace  of 
God  has  never  touched  thy  soul  that  therefore  thou  sayest 
this.  And  here  comes  the  proof  of  the  doctrine  with  which 
I  started.  Thou  dost  not  know  this  truth,  because  thou  hast 
never  felt  it;  but  if  thou  hadst  felt  it,  as  every  true-born  child 
of  God  has  felt  it,  thou  wouldst  say,  "  The  man  can  not  de- 
scribe its  terrors  as  they  are ;  they  must  be  felt  before  they 
can  be  known,  and  when  felt  they  are  not  to  be  expressed  in 
all  their  fullness  of  terror." 

But  come,  let  me  reason  with  you  for  a  momeat.  Your  sin 
is  great,  although  you  think  it  small.  Remember,  brother, 
I  am  not  about  to  make  out  that  thy  sin  is  greater  than  mine. 
I  speak  to  thee,  and  I  speak  to  myself  also,  thy  sin  is  great. 
Follow  me  in  these  few  thoughts  and  perhaps  thou  wilt  better 


THE  EVIL  AND  ITS   REMEDY.  227 

uncierstand  it.  How  gre.it  a  thing  is  one  sin,  when,  according 
to  the  Word  of  God,  otie  sin  could  suffice  to  damn  the  soul. 
One  sin,  remember,  destroyed  the  whole  human  race.  Adam 
did  but  take  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  and  that  one  sin  blasted 
Eden,  and  made  all  of  us  inheritors  of  the  curse,  and  caused 
the  earth  to  bring  forth  thorns  and  thistles,  even  unto  this 
day.  But  it  may  be  said,  could  one  sin  destroy  the  soul  ?  Is 
it  possible  that  one  solitary  sin  could  open  the  gates  of  hell, 
and  then  close  them  upon  the  guilty  soul  for  ever,  and  that 
God  should  refuse  his  mercy,  and  shut  out  that  soul  for  ever 
from  the  presence  of  his  face?  Yes,  if  I  believe  my  Bible,  I 
must  believe  that.  Oh,  how  great  must  my  sins  be  if  this  is 
the  terrible  effect  of  one  transgression.  Sin  can  not  be  the 
little  thing  that  my  pride  has  helped  me  to  imagine  it  to  be. 
It  must  be  an  awful  thing  if  but  one  sin  could  ruin  my  soul 
for  ever. 

Think  again,  my  friend,  for  a  moment,  what  an  imprudent 
and  impertinent  thing  sin  is.  Behold  !  there  is  one  God  who 
filleth  all  in  all,  and  he  is  the  infinite  Creator.  He  makes  me, 
and  I  am  nothing  more  in  his  sis^ht  than  nn  animated  ofrain  of 
dust;  and  I,  that  animated  graui  of  dust,  with  a  mere  epliemeral 
existence,  have  the  impertinence  and  imprudence  to  set  up  my 
■will  against  his  will !  I  dare  to  proclaim  war  against  the  in- 
finite Majesty  of  heaven.  It  is  a  thing  so  audacious,  so  infer- 
nally full  of  pride,  that  one  need  not  marvel  that  even  a  sin  in 
the  little  eye  of  man,  should,  when  it  is  looked  upon  by  the 
conscience  in  the  light  of  heaven,  appear  to  be  great  indeed. 

But  think  again,  how  great  does  your  sin  and  mine  seem,  if 
we  will  but  think  of  the  ingratitude  which  has  marked  it.  The 
Lord  our  God  has  fed  us  from  our  youtli  up  to  this  day :  he 
has  put  the  breath  into  our  nostrils,  and  has  held  our  souls  in 
life;  he  has  clothed  the  earth  witli  mercies  and  he  has  permitted 
US  to  walk  across  these  fair  fields;  and  he  has  given  us  bread 
to  eat  and  raiment  to  p«it  on,  and  mercies  so  precious  that 
their  full  value  can  never  be  known  until  they  are  taken  from 
us;  and  yet  you  and  I  have  persevered  in  breaking  all  his 
laws  willfully  and  wantonly :  we  have  gone  contrary  to  his 
will ;  it  has  been  sufficient  for  us  to  know  that  a  thing  has 


228  THE   EVIL    AND   ITS    REMEDY. 

been  God's  will,  and  we  have  at  once  run  contrary  thereunto. 
Oh,  if  we  set  our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of  his  mercy,  if  our 
transgressions  are  set  side  by  side  wdth  his  favors,  we  must 
each  of  us  say,  our  sins  indeed  are  exceeding  great. 

Mark,  I  am  not  now  addressing  myself  solely  and  wholly  to 
those  whom  the  world  itself  condemns  of  great  sin.  We  of 
course  do  not  hesitate  for  a  moment  to  speak  of  the  drunkard, 
the  whoremonger,  the  adulterer,  and  the  thief,  as  being  great 
sinners ;  we  should  not  spare  to  say  that  their  iniquity  is  exceed- 
ing great,  for  it  exceeds  even  the  bounds  of  man's  morality,  and 
the  law  of  our  civil  government.  But  I  am  speaking  this  day 
to  you  who  have  been  the  most  moral,  to  you  whose  outward 
carriage  is  every  thing  that  could  be  desired,  to  you  who  have 
kept  the  Sabbath,  to  you  who  have  frequented  God's  house,  and 
outwardly  worshiped.  Your  sins  and  mine  are  exceeding  great. 
They  seem  but  little  to  the  outward  eye — but  if  we  came  to  dig 
into  the  bowels  thereof  and  see  their  iniquity,  their  hideous 
blackness,  we  must  say  of  them,  they  are  exceecling  great. 

And  again,  I  repeat  it,  this  is  a  doctrine  that  no  man  can 
rightly  know  and  receive  until  he  has  felt  it.  My  hearer,  hast 
thou  ever  felt  this  doctrine  to  be  true — "  my  sin  is  exceeding 
great  ?"  Sickness  is  a  terrible  thing,  more  especially  when  it 
is  accompanied  with  pain,  when  the  poor  body  is  racked  to  an 
extreme,  so  that  the  spirit  fails  within  us,  and  we  are  dried  up 
like  a  potsherd  ;  but  I  bear  witness  in  this  place  this  morning, 
that  sickness,  however  agonizing,  is  nothing  like  the  discovery 
of  the  evil  of  sin.  I  had  rather  pass  through  seven  years  of 
the  most  weaiisome  pain,  and  the  most  languishing  sickness, 
than  I  would  ever  again  pass  through  the  terrible  discovery 
of  the  terrors  of  sin.  There  be  some  of  you  who  will  under- 
stand what  I  mean ;  for,  brother,  you  have  felt  the  same. 
Once  on  a  time,  you  were  playing  with  your  lusts,  and  dally- 
ing with  your  sin,  and  it  pleased  God  to  open  your  eyes  to  see 
that  sin  is  exceeding  sinful.  You  remember  the  horror  of  that 
state,  it  seemed  as  if  all  hideous  things  were  gathered  into  one 
dread  and  awful  spectacle.  You  had  before  loved  your  iniqui- 
ties, but  now  you  loathed  them— and  you  loathed  yourselves ; 
before,  you  had  thought  that  your  transgressions  might  easily 


THE  EVIL   AND   ITS   REMEDY.  229 

be  got  rid  of;  they  were  matters  tliat  might  be  speedily  washed 
out  by  repentance,  or  purged  away  by  amendment  of  your 
life;  but  now  sin  seemed  an  alarming  thing,  and  that  you 
should  have  committed  all  this  iniquity ;  life  seemed  to  you  a 
curse,  and  death,  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  dreary  something 
after  death,  would  have  been  to  you  the  highest  blessing,  it 
you  could  have  escaped  the  lashings  of  your  conscience,  which 
seemed  to  be  perpetuuUy  whipping  you  with  whips  of  burning 
wire.  Some  of  you,  perhaps,  passed  through  but  a  little  of 
this.  God  was  graciously  pleased  to  give  you  deliverance  in 
a  few  hours ;  but  you  must  confess  that  those  hours  were  hours 
into  which  it  seemed  as  if  years  of  misery  had  been  com- 
pressed. It  was  my  sad  lot  for  three  or  four  years  to  feel  the 
greatness  of  my  sin  without  a  discovery  of  the  greatness  of 
God's  mercy.  I  had  to  walk  through  this  world  with  more 
than  a  world  upon  my  shoulders,  and  sustain  a  grief  that  as 
far  exceeds  all  other  griefs,  as  a  mountain  exceeds  a  mole-hill ; 
and  I  often  wonder  to  this  day  how  it  was  that  my  hand  was 
kept  from  rending  my  own  body  into  pieces  through  the  ter- 
rible agony  wliich  I  felt  when  I  discovered  the  greatness  of 
my  transgression.  Yet  I  had  not  been  a  greater  sinner  than 
any  one  of  you  here  present,  openly  and  publicly,  but  heart 
sins  were  laid  bare,  sins  of  lip  and  tongue  were  discovered, 
and  then  I  knew — oh,  that  I  may  never  have  to  learn  over 
again  in  such  a  dreadful  school  this  terrible  lesson  —  "the 
iniquity  of  J udah  and  of  Israel  is  exceeding  great."  This  is 
the  first  part  of  the  discourse. 

II.  "  Well,"  cries  one,  turning  on  his  heel,  "  there  is  very 
little  comfort  in  that.  It  is  enough  to  drive  one  to  despair,  if 
not  to  madness  itself."  Ah  friend !  such  is  the  very  design  of 
this  text.  If  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  driving  you  to  de- 
spair, if  it  be  adespair  of  your  self-righteousness  and  a  despair 
of  saving  your  own  soul,  I  shall  be  thrice  happy. 

We  turn  therefore  from  that  terrible  text  to  the  second  one, 
the  first  of  John,  the  first  chapter,  and  the  seventh  verse : — 
"  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." 
There  lies  the  l!:ickness ;  here  stands  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
What  will  he  do  with  it  ?    Will  he  go  and  speak  to  it,  and 


230  THE   EVIL   AND   ITS    REMEDY. 

say,  "  This  is  no  great  evil ;  this  blackness  is  but  a  little  spot  ?" 
Oh  !  no  ;  he  looks  at  it,  and  he  says,  "  This  is  terrible  black- 
ness, darkness  that  may  be  felt ;  this  is  an  exceeding  great 
evil."  Will  he  cover  it  up  then  ?  Will  he  weave  a  mantle  of 
excuse  and  then  wrap  it  round  about  the  iniquity  ?  Ah  !  no ; 
whatever  covering  there  may  have  been  he  lifts  it  off,  and  he 
declares  that  when  the  Spirit  of  truth  is  come  he  will  convince 
the  world  of  sin,  and  lay  the  sinner's  conscience  bare  and  probe 
the  wound  to  the  bottom.  What  then  will  he  do  ?  He  will 
do  a  far  better  thing  than  make  an  excuse  or  than  to  pretend 
in  any  way  to  speak  lightly  of  it.  He  will  cleanse  it  all  away, 
remove  it  entirely  by  the  power  and  meritorious  virtue  of  his 
own  blood,  which  is  able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost.  The 
gospel  does  not  consist  in  making  a  man's  sin  appear  little. 
The  way  Christians  get  their  peace  is  not  by  seeing  their  sins 
shriveled  and  shrinking  until  they  seem  small  to  them.  But 
on  the  contrary,  they,  first  of  all,  see  their  sins  expanding, 
and  then,  after  that,  they  obtain  their  peace  by  seeing  those 
sins  entirely  swept  away — fir  as  the  east  is  from  the  west. 

Now,  carrying  in  mind  the  remarks  I  made  upon  the  first 
text,  I  call  your  attention  for  a  few  moments  to  the  greatness 
and  beauty  of  the  second  one.  Note  here,  "  The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  Dwell  on  the 
word  "  all"  for  a  moment.  Our  sins  are  great ;  every  sin  is 
great ;  but  there  are  some  that  in  our  apprehension  seem  to 
be  greater  than  others.  There  are  crimes  that  the  lip  of  mod- 
esty could  not  mention.  I  might  go  far  in  this  pulpit  this 
morning  in  describing  the  degradation  of  human  nature  in  the 
sins  which  it  has  invented.  It  is  amazing  how  the  ingenuity 
of  man  seems  to  have  exhausted  itself  in  inventing  fresh 
crimes.  Surely  there  is  not  the  possibility  of  the  invention  of 
a  new  sin.  But  if  there  be,  ere  long  man  will  invent  it,  for 
man  seemeth  exceedingly  cunning  and  full  of  wisdom  in  the 
discoveiy  of  means  of  destroying  himself  and  the  endeavor  to 
injure  his  Maker.  But  there  are  some  sins  that  show  a  dia- 
bolical extent  of  degraded  ingenuity — some  sins  of  which  it 
were  a  shame  to  speak,  of  which  it  were  disgraceful  to  think. 
But  note  here  :  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all 


THE   EVIL  AND   ITS   REMEDY.  231 

sin."  There  may  be  some  sins  of  which  a  man  can  not  speak, 
but  there  is  no  sin  which  tlie  blood  of  Christ  can  not  wash 
away.  Blasphemy,  however  profane;  lust,  however  bestial; 
covetousness,  how^ever  far  it  may  have  gone  into  theft  and 
rapine  ;  breach  of  the  commandments  of  God,  however  much 
of  riot  it  may  have  run — all  this  may  be  pardoned  and  washed 
away  through  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  all  the  long  list 
of  human  sins,  though  that  be  long  as  time,  there  standeth 
but  one  sin  that  is  unpardonable,  and  that  one  no  sinner  has 
committed  if  he  feels  within  himself  a  longing  for  mercy,  for 
that  sin  once  committed,  the  soul  becomes  hardened,  dead  and 
seared,  and  never  desireth  afterwards  to  find  peace  with  God. 
I  therefore  declare  to  thee,  O  trembling*  sinner,  that  however 
great  thine  iniquity  may  be,  whatever  sin  thou  mayest  have 
committed  in  all  the  list  of  guilt,  however  far  thou  mayest 
have  exceeded  all  thy  fellow-creatures,  though  thou  mayest 
have  distanced  the  Pauls  and  Magdalens  and  every  one  of  the 
most  heinous  culprits  in  the  black  race  of  sin,  yet  the  blood  of 
Christ  is  able  now  to  wash  thy  sin  away.  Mark  !  I  speak  not 
lightly  of  thy  sin,  it  is  exceeding  great ;  but  I  speak  still  more 
loftily  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  Great  as  is  thy  sins,  the  blood 
of  Christ  is  greater  still.  Thy  sins  are  like  great  mountains, 
but  the  blood  of  Christ  is  like  Noah's  flood  ;  twenty  cubits  up- 
wards shall  this  blood  prevail,  and  the  top  of  the  mountains 
of  thy  sin  shall  be  covered. 

Just  take  the  word  "  all"  in  another  sense,  not  only  as  tak- 
ing in  all  sorts  of  sin,  but  as  comprehending  the  great  aggre- 
gate mass  of  sin.  Come  here  sinner,  thou  with  the  gray  head. 
Wliat  are  we  to  understand  in  thy  case  by  this  word  all  f 
Bring  hither  the  tremendous  load  of  the  sins  of  thy  youth. 
Those  sins  are  still  in  thy  bones,  and  thy  tottering  knees  some- 
times testify  against  the  iniquities  of  thy  early  youth ;  but  all 
these  sins  Christ  can  remove.  Now  bring  hither  the  sins  of 
thy  riper  manhood,  thy  transgressions  in  the  family,  thy  fail- 
ures in  business,  all  the  mistakes  and  all  the  errors  thou  hast 
committed  in  tl»e  thoughts  of  thy  heart.  Bring  them  all  here  ; 
and  then  add  the  iniquities  of  thy  frail  and  trembling  age. 
What  a  mass  is  there  here  I    What  a  mass  of  sin  !    Stir  up  that 


232  THE  EVIL   AliTD   ITS   REMEDY. 

putrid  mass,  but  put  thy  finger  to  thy  nostrils  first,  for  thou  canst 
not  bear  the  stench  thereof  if  thou  art  a  man  with  a  living  and 
quickened  conscience.  Couldst  thou  bear  to  read  thine  own 
diary  if  thou  hadst  written  there  all  thy  acts  ?  No ;  for  though 
thou  be  the  purest  of  mankind,  thy  thoughts,  if  they  could 
have  been  recorded,  would  now,  if  thou  couldst  read  them, 
make  thee  startle  and  wonder  that  thou  art  demon  enough  to 
have  had  such  imaginations  within  thy  soul.  But  put  them  all 
here,  and  all  these  sins  the  blood  of  Christ  can  wash  away. 

Nay,  more  than  that.  Come  hither  ye  thousands  who  are 
gathered  together  this  morning  to  listen  to  the  Word  of  God  ; 
what  is  the  aggregate  of  your  guilt  ?  Hither  have  ye  come, 
men  of  every  grade  and  class,  and  women  of  every  age  and 
order  ;  what  is  the  mass  of  all  your  united  guilt  ?  Could  ye 
put  it  so  that  mortal  observation  could  comprehend  the  whole 
within  its  ken,  it  were  as  a  mountain  with  a  base  broad  as 
eternity,  and  a  summit  lofty  almost  as  the  throne  of  the  great 
archangel.  But,  remember,  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his 
Son  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Let  but  the  blood  be  applied  to 
our  consciences  and  all  our  guilt  is  removed,  and  cast  away 
for  ever — all,  none  left,  not  one  solitary  stain  remaining — all 
gone,  like  Israel's  enemies — all  drowned  in  the  Red  sea,  so 
that  there  was  not  one  of  them  left,  all  swept  away,  not  so 
much  as  the  remembrance  of  them  remaining.  "The  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin." 

Yet,  once  more,  in  the  praise  of  this  blood  we  must  notice 
one  further  feature.  There  be  some  of  you  here  who  are  say- 
ing, "  Ah  !  that  shall  be  my  hope  when  I  come  to  die,  that 
in  the  last  hour  of  my  extremity  the  blood  of  Christ  will  take 
my  sins  away  ;  it  is  now  ray  comfort  to  think  that  the  blood 
of  Christ  shall  wash,  and  purge,  and  purify  the  transgressions 
of  life."  But,  mark !  my  text  saith  not  so  ;  it  does  not  say 
the  blood  of  Christ  shall  cleanse — that  were  a  truth — but  it 
says  something  greater  than  that — it  says,  "The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth'''^ — cleanseth  now.  And  is  it 
possible  that  now  a  man  may  be  forgiven  ?  Can  a  harlot  now 
have  all  her  sins  blotted  out  of  the  book  of  God ;  and  can 
she  know  it  ?     Can  the  thief  this  day  have  all  his  transgres- 


THB  EVIL  AND    ITS   REMEDY.  233 

sions  cast  into  the  sea  ;  and  can  he  know  it  ?  Can  I,  the  chief 
of  sinners,  this  day  be  cleansed  from  all  my  sins,  and  know  it  ? 
Can  I  know  that  I  stand  accepted  before  the  throne  of  God, 
a  holy  creature  because  washed  from  every  sin  ?  Yes,  tell  it 
the  wide  world  over,  that  the  blood  of  Christ  can  not  only 
wash  you  in  the  last  dying  article,  but  can  wash  you  now. 
And  let  it  be  known,  moreover,  that  to  this  there  are  a  thou- 
sand witnesses,  who,  rising  in  this  very  place  from  their  seats, 
could  sing, 

"  Oh,  how  sweet  to  view  the  flowing  ♦ 

Of  my  Saviour's  precious  blood, 
With  divine  assurance  knowing 
He  has  made  my  peace  with  God." 

What  would  you  not  give  to  have  all  your  sins  blotted  out 
now  f  Would  you  not  give  yourself  away  to  become  the 
servant  of  God  for  ever,  if  71010  your  sins  should  be  washed 
away  ?  Ah,  then,  say  not  in  your  hearts,  "  What  shall  I  do 
to  obtain  this  mercy  ?"  Imagine  not  there  is  any  difficulty  in 
your  way.  Suppose  not  there  is  some  hard  thing  to  be  done 
before  you  can  come  to  Christ  to  be  washed.  O  beloved !  to 
the  man  that  knows  himself  to  be  guilty,  there  is  not  one  bar- 
rier between  himself  and  Christ.  Come,  soul,  this  moment 
come  to  him  that  hung  upon  the  cross  of  Calvary !  come  now 
and  be  washed. 

But  what  meanest  thou  by  coming?  I  mean  this:  come 
thou  and  put  thy  trust  in  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved. 
What  is  meant  by  believing  in  Christ  ?  Some  say,  that  "  to 
believe  in  Christ  is  to  believe  that  Christ  died  for  me."  That 
is  not  a  satisfactory  definition  of  faith.  An  Arminian  believes 
that  Christ  died  for  everybody.  He  must,  therefore,  neces- 
sarily believe  that  Christ  died  for  him.  His  believing  that 
will  not  save  him,  for  he  will  still  remain  an  unconverted  man 
and  yet  believe  that.  To  believe  in  Christ  is  to  trust  him. 
The  way  I  believe  in  Christ,  and  I  know  not  how  to  speak  of 
it,  except  as  I  feel  it  myself,  is  simply  this :  I  know  it  is  writ- 
ton  that  "  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners." 
I  do  firmly  believe  that  those  he  came  to  save  he  will  save. 
The  only  question  I  ask  myself,  is  "  Can  I  put  myself  among 


234  THE  EVIL   AND   ITS   REMEDY. 

that  number  whom  he  has  declared  he  came  to  save  ?"  Am 
I  a  sinuer  ? — not  one  that  utters  the  word  in  a  complimentary 
sense ;  but  do  I  feel  the  deep  compunction  in  my  inmost  soul  ? 
do  I  stand  and  feel  convicted,  guilty,  and  condemned  ?  I  do ; 
I  know  I  do.  Whatever  I  may  not  be,  one  thing-  I  know  I 
am — a  sinner,  guilty,  consciously  guilty,  and  often  miserable 
on  account  of  that  guilt.  Well,  then,  the  Scripture  says, 
"  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners." 

"  And  when  thine  eye  of  faith  is  dim, 
Stiil  trust  in  Jesus,  sink  or  swim ; 

Thus,  at  his  footstool  bow  the  knee,  •  . 

And  Israel's  God  thy  peace  shall  be." 

Let  me  put  my  entire  trust  in  the  bloody  sacrifice  which  he 
ofiered  upon  my  behalf.  No  dependence  will  I  have  upon  my 
prayings,  my  doings,  my  feelings,  my  weepings,  my  preach- 
ings, my  thinkings,  my  Bible  readings,  nor  all  that.  I  would 
desire  to  have  good  works,  and  yet  in  my  good  works  I  will 
not  put  a  shadow  of  trust. 

"  Nothing  in  my  hands  I  bring. 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling." 

And  if  there  be  any  power  in  Christ  to  save,  I  am  saved ;  if 
there  be  an  everlasting  arm  extended  by  Christ,  and  if  that 
Saviour  who  hung  there  was  "  God  over  all,  blessed  for  ever," 
and  if  his  blood  is  still  exhibited  before  the  throne  of  God  as 
the  sacrifice  for  sin,  then  perish  I  can  not,  till  the  throne  of 
God  shall  break,  and  till  the  pillars  of  God's  justice  shall 
crumble. 

Now,  sinner,  what  then  hast  thou  to  do  this  morning?  If 
thou  feelest  thy  guilt  to  be  great,  cast  thyself  entirely  upon 
this  sacrifice  by  blood.  "  But  no,"  says  one,  "  I  have  not  felt 
enough."  Thy  feelings  are  not  Christ.  "  No,  but  I  have  not 
prayed  enough."  Thy  prayers  are  not  Christ,  and  thy  pray- 
ers can  not  save  thee.  "  No,  but  I  have  not  repented  enough." 
Thy  repentance  may  destroy  thee,  if  thou  puttest  that  in  the 
Ijlace  of  Christ.     All  that  thou  hast,  I  repeat  this  morning,  is 


THE  EVIL  AXD  ITS   REMEDY.  236 

this — dost  thou  feel  thyself  to  be  a  lost,  ruined,  guilty  sinner  ? 
Then  simply  cast  thyself  on  the  fact  that  Christ  is  able  to  save 
sinners,  and  rest  there.  What !  do  you  say  you  can  not  do  it  ? 
Oh  may  God  enable  you,  may  he  give  you  faith,  sink  or  swim, 
to  cast  yourself  on  that.  "  Well !  but,"  you  say,  "I  may  not, 
being  such  a  sinner."  You  may  ;  and  God  never  yet  rejected 
a  sinner  that  sought  salvation  by  Jesus.  Such  a  thing  never 
happened,  though  the  sinner  sometimes  thought  it  had.  Come, 
the  crumb  is  under  the  table ;  though  thou  be  but  a  dog  come 
and  pick  it  up ;  it  is  a  privilege  even  for  the  dog  to  take  it ; 
and  mercy  that  is  great  to  thee,  is  but  a  crumb  to  him  that 
gives  it  freely — come  and  take  it.  Christ  will  not  reject  thee. 
And  if  thou  be  the  chiefest  of  sinners  that  ever  lived,  only  sim- 
ply trust  thyself  upon  him,  and  perish  thou  canst  not,  if  God 
be  God,  and  if  this  Bible  be  the  book  of  his  truth.  The  Lord 
now  help  each  one  of  us  to  come  afresh  to  Christ,  and  to  his 
name  be  glory. 


SERMON    XV. 

SAMSON    CONQUERED. 

"  And  she  said,  the  Philistines  be  upon  thee,  Samsou.  And  he  awoke  out 
of  his  sleep,  and  said,  I  will  go  out  as  at  other  times  before,  and  shake  my- 
sel£  And  he  wist  not  that  the  Lord  was  departed  from  him.  But  the  Philis- 
tines took  him,  and  put  out  his  eyes,  and  brought  him  down  to  Gaza,  and 
bound  him  with  fetters  of  brass ;  and  he  did  grind  in  the  prison  house." — 
Judges,  xvL  20,  21. 

Samson  is,  in  many  respects,  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
men  whose  history  is  recorded  in  the  pages  of  inspiration. 
He  enjoyed  a  singular  privilege,  only  accorded  to  one  other 
person  in  the  Old  Testament.  His  birth  was  foretold  to  his 
parents  by  an  angel.  Isaac  was  promised  to  Abraham  and 
Sarah  by  angels  whom  they  entertained  unawares ;  but  save 
Isaac,  Samson  was  the  only  one  whose  birth  was  foretold  by 
an  angelic  messenger  before  the  opening  of  the  gospel  dispen- 
sation. Before  his  birth  he  was  dedicated  to  God,  and  set 
apart  as  a  Nazarite.  IsTow,  a  Nazarite  was  a  person  who  was 
entirely  consecrated  to  God,  and  in  token  of  his  consecration 
he  drank  no  wine  ;  and  allowed  his  hair  to  grow,  untouched 
by  the  razor.  Samson,  you  may  therefore  understand,  was 
entirely  consecrated  to  God,  and  when  any  saw  him,  they 
would  say,  "  That  man  is  God's  man,  a  Nazarite,  set  apart." 
God  endowed  Samson  with  supernatural  strength,  a  strength 
which  never  could  have  been  the  result  of  mere  thews  and 
sinews.  It  was  not  the  fashioning  of  Samson's  body  that 
made  him  strong ;  it  was  not  the  arm,  or  the  fist  with  which 
he  smote  the  Philistines  ;  it  was  a  miracle  that  dwelt  within 
him,  a  continued  going  forth  of  the  omnipotence  of  God, 
which  made  him  mightier  than  thousands  of  his  enemies. 
Samson  appears  very  early  to  have  discovered  in  himself  this 
great  strength,  for  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  began  to  move 


SAMSON    CONQUERED.  237 

him  at  times  in  the  camp  of  Dan."  He  judged  Israel  for 
thirty  years,  and  gloriously  did  he  deliver  them.  What  a 
noble  being  he  must  have  been !  See  him,  when  he  steps  into 
the  vineyard  for  a  moment  from  his  parents.  A  lion  that  has 
been  crouching  there  springs  upon  him,  but  he  meets  him  all 
unarmed,  receives  him  upon  his  brawny  arms  and  rends  him 
like  a  kid.  See  him  afterwards,  when  his  countrymen  have 
bound  him  and  taken  him  down  from  the  top  of  the  rock,  and 
delivered  him  up  to  the  thousands  of  the  Philistines.  He  has 
scarcely  come  near  them,  w^hen,  without  a  weapon,  with  his 
own  foot,  he  begins  to  spurn  them ;  and  seeing  there  the  jaw- 
bone of  an  ass,  he  takes  that  ignoble  weapon,  and  sweeps 
away  the  men  that  had  helmets  about  their  heads  and  were 
girded  with  greaves  of  brass.  Nor  did  his  vigor  fail  him  in 
his  later  Hfe,  for  he  died  in  the  very  prime  of  his  days.  One 
of  his  greatest  exploits  was  performed  •  at  this  very  season. 
He  is  entrapped  in  the  city  of  Gaza.  He  remains  there  till 
midnight ;  so  confident  is  he  in  his  strength  that  he  is  in  no 
hurry  to  depart,  and  instead  of  assaihng  the  guard,  and  mak- 
ing them  draw  the  bolts,  he  wrenches  up  the  two  posts,  and 
takes  away  the  gate,  bar  and  all,  and  carries  his  mighty  bur- 
den for  miles  to  the  top  of  a  hill  that  is  before  Hebron. 
Every  way  it  must  have  been  a  great  thing  to  see  this  man, 
especially  if  one  had  him  for  a  friend.  Had  one  been  his  foe, 
the  more  distant  the  sight  the  better,  for  none  could  -  escape 
from  him  but  those  who  fled ;  but  to  have  him  for  a  friend 
and  to  stand  with  him  in  the  day  of  battle,  was  to  feel  that 
you  had  an  army  in  a  single  man,  and  had  in  one  frame  that 
which  would  strike  thousands  with  terror.  Samson,  however, 
though  he  had  great  physical  strength,  had  but  little  mental 
force,  and  even  less  spiritual  power.  His  whole  life  is  a  scene 
of  miracles  and  follies.  He  had  but  little  grace,  and  was 
easily  overcome  by  temptation.  He  is  enticed  and  led  astray. 
Often  corrected,  still  he  sins  again.  At  last  he  falls  into  the 
hands  of  Delilah.  She  is  bribed  with  an  enormous  sum,  and 
she  endeavors  to  get  from  him  the  secret  of  his  strength.  He 
foolishly  toys  with  the  danger,  and  plays  with  his  own  destruc- 
tion.   At  last,  goaded  by  her  importunity,  he  lets  out  the 


238  SAMSON    CONQUERED. 

secret  which  he  ought  to  have  confided  to  no  one  but  himself. 
The  secret  of  his  strength  lay  in  his  locks.  Not  that  his  hair 
made  him  strong ;  but  that  his  hair  was  the  symbol  of  his 
consecration,  and  was  the  pledge  of  God's  favor  to  him. 
While  his  hair  was  untouched  he  was  a  consecrated  man  ;  as 
soon  as  that  was  cut  away,  he  was  no  longer  perfectly  conse- 
crated, and  then  his  strength  departed  from  him.  His  hair  is 
cut  away  ;  the  locks  that  covered  him  once  are  taken  from 
him,  and  there  he  stands  a  shaveling,  weak  as  other  men. 
Now  the  Philistines  begin  to  oppress  him,  and  his  eyes  are 
burned  out  with  hot  iron.  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  !  How 
are  the  great  ones  taken  in  the  net !  Samson,  the  great  hero 
of  Israel,  is  seen  with  a  shuffling  gait  walking  towards  Gaza. 
A  shuffling  gait,  I  said,  because  he  had  just  received  blind- 
ness, which  was  a  new  thing  to  him,  therefore,  he  had  not  as 
yet  learned  to  walk  as  well  as  those  who  having  been  blind 
for  years,  at  last  learn  to  set  their  feet  firmly  upon  the  earth. 
With  his  feet  bound  together  with  brazen  fetters — an  unusual 
mode  of  binding  a  prisoner,  but  adopted  in  this  case  because 
Samson  was  supposed  to  be  still  so  strong  that  any  other  kind 
of  fetter  would  have  been  insufficient — you  see  him  walking 
along  in  the  midst  of  a  small  escort  towards  Gaza.  And  now 
he  comes  to  the  very  city  out  of  which  he  had  walked  in  all 
his  pride  with  the  gates  and  bolts  upon  his  shoulders ;  and 
the  little  children  come  out,  the  lower  orders  of  the  people 
come  round  about  him,  and  jDoint  at  him — "  Samson,  the  great 
hero,  hath  fallen !  let  us  make  sport  of  him  !"  What  a  spec- 
tacle !  The  hot  sun  is  beating  upon  his  bare  head,  which  had 
once  been  protected  by  those  luxuriant  locks.  Look  at  the 
escort  who  guard  him,  a  mere  handful  of  men,  how  they 
would  have  fled  before  him  in  his  brighter  days ;  but  now  a 
child  might  overcome  him.  They  take  him  to  a  place  where 
an  ass  is  grinding  at  a  mill:,  and  Samson  must  do  the  same 
ignoble  work.  Why,  he  must  be  the  sport  and  jest  of  every 
passer  by,  and  of  every  fool  who  shall  step  in  to  see  this  great 
wonder — the  destroyer  of  the  PhiUstines  made  to  toil  at  the 
mill.  Ah,  what  a  fall  was  there,  my  brethren !  We  might 
indeed  stand  and  weep  over  poor  blind  Samson.    That  he 


SAMSON    CONQTTERED.  239 

should  have  lost  his  eyes  was  terrible ;  that  he  should  have 
lost  his  strength  was  worse ;  but  that  he  should  have  lost  the 
favor  of  God  for  a  while ;  that  he  should  become  the  sport  ot 
God's  enemies,  was  the  worst  of  all.  Over  this  indeed  we 
might  weep. 

Now,  why  have  I  narrated  this  story?  Why  should  I 
direct  your  attention  to  Samson?  For  this  reason..  Every 
child  of  God  is  a  consecrated  man.  His  consecration  is  not 
typified  by  any  outward  symbol ;  we  are  not  commanded  to 
let  our  hair  grow  for  ever,  nor  to  abstain  from  meats  or  drinks. 
The  Christian  is  a  consecrated  man,  but  his  consecration  is 
unseen  by  his  fellows,  except  in  the  outward  deeds  which  are 
the  result  thereof. 

And  now  I  want  to  speak  to  you,  my  dear  friends,  as  con- 
secrated men,  as  Nazarites,  and  I  think  I  shall  find  a  lesson 
for  you  in  the  history  of  Samson.  My  first  point  shall  be  the 
strength  of  the  consecrated^  for  they  are  strong  men  ;  secondly, 
the  secret  of  their  strength  ;  thirdly,  the  danger  to  which  they 
are  exposed  j  and  fourthly,  the  disgrace  which  will  come  upon 
them  if  t/iey  fall  into  this  danger. 

I.    First,  THE  STRENGTH  OF  THE  CONSECRATED  MAN.      Do  yOU 

know  that  the  strongest  man  in  all  the  world  is  a  consecrated 
man  ?  Even  though  he  may  consecrate  himself  to  a  wrong 
object,  yet 'if  it  be  a  thorough  consecratiou,  he  will  have 
strength — strength  for  evil,  it  may  be,  but  still  strength.  In 
the  old  Roman  wars  with  Pyrrhus,  you  remember  an  ancient 
story  of  sell-devotion.  There  was  an  oracle  which  said  that 
victory  would  attend  that  army  whose  leader  should  give 
himself  up  to  death.  Decius,  the  Roman  consul,  knowing 
this,  rushed  into  the  thickest  of  the  battle,  that  his  army 
might  overcome  by  his  dying.  The  prodigies  of  valor  which 
he  performed  are  proofs  of  the  power  of  consecration.  The 
Romans  at  that  time  seemed  to  be  every  man  a  hero,  because 
every  man  was  a  consecrated  man.  They  went  to  battle  with 
this  thought — "  I  will  conquer  or  die ;  the  name  of  Rome  is 
written  on  my  heart ;  for  my  country  I  am  prepared  to  live, 
or  for  that  to  shed  my  blood."  And  no  enemies  could  ever 
stand  agaiubt  them.     If  a  Roman  fell  there  were  no  wounds 


240  SAMSON     CONQUERED. 

in  his  back,  but  all  in  his  breast.  His  face,  even  in  cold  death, 
was  like  the  face  of  a  lion,  and  when  looked  upon  it  was  of 
terrible  aspect.  They  were  men  consecrated  to  their  country ; 
they  were  ambitious  to  make  the  name  of  Rome  the  noblest 
word  in  human  language ;  and  consequently  the  Roman  be- 
came a  giant.  And  to  this  day  let  a  man  get  a  purpose 
within  him,  I  care  not  what  his  purpose  is,  and  let  his  whole 
soul  be  absorbed  by  it,  and  what  will  he  not  do  ?  You  that 
are  "  every  thing  by  turns  and  nothing  long,"  that  have 
nothing  to  live  for,  soulless  carcases  that  walk  this  earth  and 
waste  its  air,  what  can  you  do  ?  Why  nothing.  But  the  man 
who  knows  what  he  is  at,  and  has  his  mark,  speeds  to  it 
"like  an  arrow  from  a  bow  shot  by  an  archer  strong." 
Naught  can  turn  him  from  his  design.  How  much  more  is 
this  true  if  I  limit  the  description  to  that  which  is  peculiar  to 
the  Christian — consecration  to  God !  Oh  !  what  strength 
that  man  has  who  is  dedicated  to  God  !  Is  there  such  an  one 
here  ?  I  know  there  is,  I  know  that  there  be  many  who  have 
consecrated  themselves  to  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  in  the  secret 
of  their  chamber ;  and  who  can  say  in  their  hearts, 

"  Tis  done  ;  the  great  transaction's  done  j 
I  am  my  Lord's,  and  he  is  mine. 
He  drew  me,  and  I  followed  on, 
Glad  to  obey  the  voice  divine." 

Now,  the  man  that  can  say  that,  and  is  thoroughly  consecrated 
to  God  ;  be  he  who  he  may  or  what  he  may,  he  is  a  strong 
man,  and  will  work  marvels. 

ISTeed  I  tell  you  of  the  wonders  that  have  been  done  by  con- 
secrated men  ?  You  have  read  the  stories  of  olden  times, 
when  our  religion  was  hunted  like  a  partridge  on  the  moun- 
tains. Did  you  never  hear  how  consecrated  men  and  women 
endured  unheard-of  pangs  and  agonies  ?  Have  you  not  read 
how  they  were  cast  to  the  lions,  how  they  were  sawn  in  sun- 
der, how  they  languished  in  prisons,  or  met  with  the  swifter 
death  of  the  sword  ?  Have  you  not  heard  how  they  wandered 
about  in  sheep  skins  and  goat  skins,  destitute,  afflicted,  tor- 
mented, of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy  ?     Have  you  not 


SAMSON   CONQUERED.  241 

heard  how  they  defied  tyrants  to  their  face — ho^v,  when  they 
were  threatened,  they  dared  most  boldly  to  laugh  at  all  the 
threats  of  the  foe — how  at  the  stake  they  clapped  their  hands 
in  the  fire,  and  sang  psalms  of  triumph  when  men,  worse  than 
fiends,  were  jeering  at  their  miseries  ?  How  was  this  ?  What 
made  women  stronger  than  men,  and  men  stronger  than  an- 
gels? Why  this — they  were  consecrated  to  God.  They  felt 
that  every  pang  wliicli  rent  their  hearts  was  giving  glory  to 
God,  that  all  the  pains  they  endured  in  their  bodies  were  but 
the  marks  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  whereby  they  were  proven  to  be 
wholly  dedicated  unto  him.  Nor  in  this  alone  has  the  power 
of  the  consecrated  ones  been  proved.  Have  you  never  heard 
liow  the  sanctified  ones  have  done  wonders  ?  Read  the  sto- 
ries of  those  who  counted  not  their  lives  dear  unto  them,  that 
they  might  honor  their  Lord  and  Master  by  preaching  his 
Word,  by  telling 'forth  the  gospel  in  foreign  lands.  Have  you 
not  heard  how  men  have  left  their  kindred  and  their  friends, 
and  all  that  life  held  dear — have  crossed  the  stormy  sea,  and 
liave  gone  intotlie  lands  of  the  heathen,  where  men  were  de- 
vouring one  another  ?  Have  you  not  known  how  they  have 
put  tlieir  loot  upon  that  country,  and  have  seen  the  ship  that 
conveyed  them  there  fading  away  in  the  distance,  and  yet 
witljout  a  fear  have  dwelt  amongst  the  wild  savages  of  the 
woods,  have  walked  into  the  midst  of  them,  and  told  them  the 
simple  story  of  the  God  that  loved  and  died  for  man  ?  You 
must  know  how  tliose  men  have  conquered,  how  those,  who 
seemed  to  be  fiercer  than  lions,  have  crouched  before  them, 
have  listened  to  their  words,  and  have  been  conveited  by  the 
mnjesty  of  the  gospel  which  they  jireached.  Wliat  made 
these  men  heroes  ?  What  enabled  tliem  to  rend  themselves 
away  from  all  their  kith  and  kin,  and  banish  themselves  into 
the  land  of  the  stranger  ?  It  was  because  they  were  conse- 
crated, thoroughly  consecrated  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
What  is  tliere  in  the  world  which  the  consecrated  man  can 
not  do  ?  Tempt  him  ;  ofi'er  him  gold  and  silver  ;  carry  him 
to  the  mountain  top,  and  show  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world,  and  tell  Liin  ho  shnll  have  all  these  if  he  will  bow  down 
and  worship  the  god  of  this  world.    What  saith  the  conse- 

11 


242  SAMSON   CONQUERED. 

crat<3d  man  ?  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  ;  I  have  more  than 
all  this  which  thou  dost  offer  me ;  this  world  is  mine,  and 
worlds  to  come  ;  I  despise  the  temptation  ;  I  will  not  bow  be- 
fore thee."  Let  men  threaten  a  consecrated  man,  what  does 
he  say?  "I  fear  God,  and  therefore  I  can  not  fear  you  ;  if 
it  be  right  in  your  sight  to  obey  man  rather  than  God,  judge 
ye ;  but  as  for  me,  I  will  serve  none  but  God."  You  may, 
perhaps,  have  seen  in  your  life  a  consecrated  man.  Is  he  a 
public  character  ?  What  can  not  he  do  ?  He  preaches  the 
gospel,  and  at  once  a  thousand  enemies  assail  him  ;  they  attack 
him  on  every  side ;  some  for  this  thing,  and  some  for  that ; 
his  very  virtues  are  distorted  into  vices,  and  his  slightest  faults 
are  magnified  into  the  greatest  crimes.  He  has  scarce  a  friend  ; 
the  very  ministers  of  the  gospel  shun  him  ;  he  is  reckoned  to 
be  so  strange  that  every  one  must  avoid  him.  What  does  he 
do  ?  Within  the  chamber  of  his  own  heart  he  holds  confer- 
ence with  his  God,  and  asks  himself  this  question — am  I  right  ? 
Conscience  gives  the  verdict — yes,  and  the  Spirit  bears  witness 
with  his  spirit  that  conscience  is  impartial.  "Then,"  says  he, 
"  come  fair,  come  foul,  if  I  am  right — neither  to  the  right 
hand  nor  to  the  left  will  I  turn."  Perhaps  he  feels  in  secret 
what  he  will  not  express  in  public.  He  feels  the  pang  of  de- 
sertion, obloquy,  and  rebuke  ;  he  cries — 

"  If  on  my  face,  for  thy  dear  name, 
Shame  and.  reproach  shall  be, 
I'll  hail  reproach,  and  welcome  shame, 
If  thou'lt  remember  me." 

As  for  himself  in  public,  none  can  tell  that  he  careth  for  any 
of  these  things  ;  for  he  can  say  with  Paul — "  None  of  these 
things  move  me,  neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  me  that  I 
may  win  Christ  and  finish  my  course  with  joy."  What  can 
not  a  consecrated  man  do  ?  I  do  believe  if  he  had  the  whole 
world  against  him,  he  would  prove  more  than  a  match  for 
them  all.  He  would  say — "  Heaps  upon  heaps,  with  the  jaw- 
bone of  an  ass  have  I  slain  my  thousand  men."  I  care  not 
how  violent  may  be  his  foe ;  nor  how  great  may  be  the  advan- 
tage which  that  foe  may  get  of  him  :  though  the  lion  may 


SAMSON   CONQUERED.  243 

have  crouched  for  the  spring,  and  may  be  leaping  upon  .him, 
yet  will  he  rend  him  as  a  kid,  for  he  is  more  than  a  conqueror 
through  him  that  loved  him.  He  is  alone  such,  who  is  wholly 
consecrated  unto  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  But,"  j^ays  some  one,  "  can  we  be  consecrated  to  Christ  ? 
I  thought  that  was  for  ministers  only."  Oh,  no,  my  brethren  ; 
all  God's  children  must  be  consecrated  men.  \Yhat  are  you  ? 
Are  you  engaged  in  business  ?  If  you  are  what  you  profess 
to  be,  your  business  must  be  consecrated  to  God.  Perhaps  you 
have  no  family  whatever,  and  you  are  engaged  in  trade,  and 
are  saving  some  considerable  sum  a-year  ;  let  me  tell  you  the 
example  of  a  man  thoroughly  consecrated  to  God.  There  lives 
in  Bristol  (name  unknown),  a  man  whose  income  is  laige ;  and 
what  does  he  do  with  it  ?  He  labors  in  business  continually 
that  his  income  may  come  to  him,  but  of  it,  every  farthing 
every  year  is  expended  in  the  Lord's  cause  except  that  which 
he  requires  for  the  necessaries  of  life.  He  makes  his  necessi- 
ties as  few  as  possible,  that  he  may  have  the  more  to  give 
away.  He  is  God's  man  in  his  business.  I  do  not  exhort  you 
to  do  the  same.  You  may  be  in  a  different  position  ;  but  a 
man  who  has  a  family,  and  is  in  business,  should  be  able  to 
say — "  Now,  I  make  so  much  from  my  business ;  my  family 
must  be  provided  for — but  I  seek  not  to  amass  riches.  I  will 
make  money  for  God  and  I  will  spend  it  in  his  cause.  Did  I 
not  say,  when  I  joined  the  church, 

"  'All  that  I  am,  and  all  I  have, 
Shall  bo  for  ever  thine ; 
"Whate'er  my  duty  bids  me  give, 
My  cheerful  hands  resign  ?' 

And  if  I  said  it,  I  meant  it."  I  do  not  understand  some  Chris- 
tian people  who  sing  that  hymn,  and  then  pinch,  screw,  and 
nip  any  thing  when  it  comes  to  God's  cause.  If  I  sing  that,  I 
mean  it.  I  would  not  sing  it  unless  I  did.  If  I  join  the  church, 
I  understand  that  I  give  myself  and  all  that  I  have  up  to  that 
church  ;  I  woidd  not  make  a  lying  profession  ;  I  would  not 
make  an  avowal  of  a  consecration  which  I  did  not  mean.  If 
I  have  said,  "  I  anoi  Ch list's ;"  by  his  grace  I  will  be  Christ's. 


244  SAMSON   COXQTJERED. 

Brethren,  you  in  business  may  be  as  much  consecrated  to  Christ 
as  the  minister  in  his  pulpit ;  you  may  make  your  ordinary 
transactions  in  life  a  solemn  service  of  God.  Many  a  man  has 
disgraced  a  cassock,  an,d  many  another  has  consecrated  a  smock- 
frock  ;  many  a  man  has  defiled  Iiis  pulpit  cushions,  and  many 
another  has  made  a  cobbler's  lapstone  holiness  unto  the  Lord. 
Happy  the  man  who  is  consecrated  unto  the  Lord ;  wherever 
he  is,  he  is  a  consecrated  man,  and  he  shall  do  wonders. 

It  has  often  been  remarked  that  in  this  age  we  are  all  little 
men.  A  hundred  years  ago,  or  more,  if  we  had  gone  through 
the  churches,  we  might  have  readily  found  a  number  of  .mhiis- 
ters  of  great  note.  But  now  we  are  all  little  men,  the  drivel- 
ing sons  of  nobodies;  our  names  shall  never  be  remembered, 
for  we  do  nothing  to  deserve  it.  There  is  scarce  a  7nmi  alive 
now  upon  this  earth ;  there  are  plenty  to  be  found  who  call 
themselves  men,  but  they  are  the  husks  of  men,  the  life  has 
gone  from  them,  the  precious  kernel  seems  to  have  departed. 
The  littleness  of  Christians  of  this  age  results  from  the  little- 
ness of  their  consecration  to  Christ.  The  age  of  John  Owen 
was  the  day  of  great  preachers  ;  but  let  me  tell  you,  that  that 
w^as  the  age  of  great  consecration.  Those  great  preachers 
whose  names  w^e  remember,  wxre  men  who  counted  nothing 
their  own  ;  they  were  driven  out  from  their  benefices,  because 
they  could  not  conform  to  the  established  church,  and  they 
gave  up  all  they  had  willingly  to  the  Lord.  They  were  hunted 
from  place  to  place ;  the  disgraceful  five-mile  act  w^ould  not 
permit  them  to  come  within  five  miles  of  any  market  tow^i ; 
they  w^andered  here  and  there  to  preach  the  gospel  to  a  few 
poor  sinners,  being  fully  given  up  to  their  Lord.  Those  were 
foul  times;  but  they  promised  they  w^ould  walk  the  road,  fair 
or  foul,  and  they  did  walk  it  knee  deep  in  mud ;  and  they 
would  have  walked  it  if  it  had  been  knee  deep  in  blood  too. 
They  became  great  men  ;  and  if  we  were,  as  they  were,  wholly 
given  up  to  God — if  we  could  say  of  ourselves,  "  From  the 
crown  of  my  head  to  the  sole  of  my  foot,  there  is  not  a  drop 
of  blood  that  is  not  wholly  God's  ;  all  my  time,  all  my  talents, 
every  thing  I  have  is  God's" — if  w^e  could  say  that,  w^e  should 
be  strong  like  Samson,  for  the  consecrated  must  be  strong. 


SAMSON   CONQUERED.  245 

II.  Now,  in  the  second  place,  the  secret  of  their  strength. 
What  makes  the  consecrated  raan  strong  ?  Ah  !  beloved, 
there  is  no  strength  in  man  of  himself.  Samson  without  liis 
God  was  but  a  poor  fool  indeed.  The  secret  of  Samson's 
strength  was  this — as  long  as  he  was  consecrated  he  should  be 
strong  ;  so  long  as  he  was  thorouglily  devoted  to  his  God,  and 
had  no  object  but  to  serve  God  (and  that  was  to  be  indicated 
by  thc-growing  of  his  hair),  so  long,  and  no  longer,  would 
God  be  with  hina  to  help  him.  And  now  you  see,  dear  friends, 
that  if  you  have  any  strength  to  serve  God,  the  secret  of  your 
strength  lies  in  the  same  place.  What  strength  have  you  save 
in  God  ?  Ah  !  I  have  heard  some  men  talk  as  if  the  strength 
of  free  wull,  of  human  nature,  was  sufficient  to  carry  men  to 
heaven.  Free  will  has  carried  many  souls  to  hell,  but  never  a 
soul  to  heaven  yet.  No  strength  of  nature  can  suffice  to  serve 
the  Lord  aright.  No  man  can  say  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ  but 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  No  man  can  come  to  Christ  except  the 
Father  that  hath  sent  Christ  doth  draw  him.  If,  then,  the 
first  act  of  Christian  life  is  beyond  all  human  strength,  how 
much  more  are  those  higher  steps  far  beyond  any  one  of  us? 
Do  we  not  utter  a  certain  truth  when  we  say  in  the  words  of 
Scripture,  "  Not  that  we  are  sufficient  of  ourselves  to  think 
any  thing  as  of  ourselves  ;  but  our  sufficiency  is  of  God."  I 
tliink  every  one  who  has  a  really  quickened  soul  will  sooner  or 
later  be  made  to  feel  this.  Ay !  I  question  whether  a  man 
can  be  converted  a  day  without  finding  out  his  own  weakness. 
It  is  but  a  little  space  before  the  child  finds  that  he  can  stand 
alone  so  long  as  God  his  Father  takes  him  by  the  arras  and 
teaches  him  to  go,  but  that  if  his  Father's  hand  be  taken  away 
he  has  no  power  to  stand,  but  down  he  falls  at  once.  See 
Samson  without  his  God,  going  out  against  a  thousand  men. 
Would  they  not  laugh  at  him?  and  with  scarcely  time  to  ex- 
press his  terror,  he  would  flee,  or  be  rent  in  pieces.  Imagine 
In'm  without  his  God,  locked  up  in  Gaza,  the  gates  fiist  closed. 
He  goes  out  into  the  streets  to  escape  ;  but  how  can  he  clear 
a  passage?  He  is  caught  like  a  wild  bull  in  a  net ;  he  may  go 
round  and  round  the  walls,  but  where  shall  be  his  deliverance  ? 
Without  his  God  ho  is  but  as  other  men.    The  secret  of  his 


246  SAMSOX   COXQUEEED. 

strength  lies  in  his  consecration,  and  in  the  strength  which  is 
its  result.  Rem  ember,  then,  the  secret  of  your  strength. 
Never  think  that  you  have  any  power  of  your  own ;  rely 
wholly  upon  the  God  of  Israel ;  and  remember  that  the  chan- 
nel through  which  that  strength  must  come  to  you  must  be 
your  entire  consecration  to  God. 

III.  In  the  third  place,  What  is  the  peculiar  danger  of 
A  CONSECRATED  MAN?  His  danger  is  that  his  locks .»raay  be 
shorn,  that  is  to  say,  that  his  consecration  may  be  broken. 
As  long  as  he  is  consecrated  he  is  strong ;  break  that,  he  is 
weak  as  w^ater.  Now  there  are  a  thousand  razors  with  which 
the  devil  can  shave  off  the  locks  of  a  consecrated  man  without 
his  knowing  it.  Samson  is  sound  asleep  ;  so  clever  is  the  bar- 
ber that  he  even  lulls  him  to  sleep  as  his  fingers  move  across 
the  pate,  the  fool's  pate,  which  he  is  making  bare.  The  devil 
is  cleverer  far  than  even  the  skillful  barber ;  he  can  shave  the 
believer's  locks  while  he  scarcely  knows  it.  Shall  I  tell  you 
with  what  razors  he  can  accomplish  this  w^ork  ?  Sometimes 
he  takes  the  sharp  razor  of  pride,  and  when  the  Christian  falls 
asleep  and  is  not  vigilant,  he  comes  with  it  and  begins  to  run 
his  fingers  upon  the  Christian's  locks  and  says,  "  What  a  fine 
fellow  you  are  !  What  wonders  you  have  done  !  Did  n't  you 
rend  that  lion  finely  ?  Wasn't  it  a  great  feat  to  smite  those 
Philistines  hip  and  thigh  ?  Ah  !  you  will  be  talked  of  as  long 
as  time  endures  for  carrying  those  gates  of  Gaza  away.  You 
neofd  not  be  afraid  of  anybody."  And  so  on  goes  the  razor, 
lock  after  lock  falling  off,  and  Samson  knows  it  not.  He  is 
just  thinking  within  himself,  "  How  brave  am  I !  How^  great 
am  I!"  Thus  works  the  razor  of  pride — cut,  cut,  cut  away — 
and  he  wakes  up  to  find  himself  bald,  and  all  his  strength 
gone.  Have  you  never  had  that  razor  upon  your  head  ?  I 
confess  I  have  on  mine.  Have  you  never,  after  you  have  been 
able  to  endure  afflictions,  heard  a  voice  saying  to  you,  "How 
patient  you  were  !"  After  you  have  cast  aside  some  tempta- 
tion, and  have  been  able  to  keep  to  the  unswerving  course  of 
integrity,  has  not  Satan  said  to  you,  "That  is  a  fine  thing  you 
have  done  ;  that  w^as  bravely  done."  And  all  the  w^hile  you 
little  knew  that  it  w\as  the  cunning  hand  of  the  evil  one  taking 


SAMSON   COXQUERED.  247 

away  your  locks  with  the  sharp  razor  of  pride.  For  mark, 
pride  is  a  breach  of  our  consecration.  As  soon  as  I  begin  to 
get  proud  of  what  I  do,  or  what  I  am,  what  am  I  proud  of? 
Why,  there  is  in  that  pride  the  act  of  taking  away  from  God 
his  glory.  For  I  promised  that  God  should  have  nil  the  glory, 
and  is  not  that  part  of  my  consecration  ?  and  I  am  taking  it 
to  myself.  I  have  broken  ray  consecration ;  my  locks  are 
gone,  and  I  become  weak.  Mark  this,  Christian — God  will 
never  give  thee  strength  to  glorify  thyself  with  ;  God  will  give 
thee  a  crown,  but  not  to  put  on  thine  own  head.  As  sure  as 
ever  a  Christian  begins  to  write  his  feats  and  his  triumphs 
upon  his  own  escutcheon,  and  take  to  himself  the  glory,  God 
will  lay  him  level  with  the  dust. 

Another  razor  he  also  uses,  is  self-sufficiency.  "  Ah,"  saith 
the  devil,  as  he  is  shaving  away  your  locks,  "  you  have  done  a 
very  great  deal.  You  see  they  bound  you  with  green  withes, 
and  you  snapped  them  in  sunder ;  they  merely  smelt  the  fire 
and  they  burst.  Then  they  took  new  ropes  to  bind  you ;  ah ! 
you  overcame  even  them  ;  for  you  snapped  the  ropes  in  sunder 
as  if  they  had  been  a  thread.  Then  they  weaved  the  seven 
locks  of  your  head,  but  you  walked  away  with  loom  and  web 
too,  beam  and  all.  You  can  do  any  thing,  do  n't  be  afraid  ; 
you  have  strength  enough  to  do  any  thing ;  you  can  accom- 
plish any  feat  you  set  your  will  upon."  How  softly  the  devil 
will  do  all  that ;  how  will  he  be  rubbing  the  poll  while  the 
razor  is  moving  softly  along  and  the  locks  are  dropping  off, 
and  he  is  treading  them  in  the  dust.  "  You  have  done  all  this, 
and  you  can  do  any  thing  else."  Every  drop  of  grace  distills 
from  Iieaven.  O  my  brethren,  what  have  we  that  we  liave 
not  received  ?  Let  us  not  imagine  that  we  can  create  might 
wherewith  to  gird  ourselves.  '*All  my  springs  are  in  ?Aee." 
The  moment  we  begin  to  think  that  it  is  our  own  arm  that  has 
gotten  us  the  victory,  it  will  be  all  over  with  us — our  locks  of 
strength  shall  be  taken  away,  and  the  glory  shall  depart  from 
us.  So,  you  see,  self  sufficiency,  as  well  as  pride,  may  be  the 
razor  with  which  the  enemy  may  shave  away  our  strength. 

There  is  yet  another,  and  a  more  palpable  danger  still. 
When  a  consecrated  man  begins  to  change  his  purpose  in  life 


248  SAMSON   CONQUEEED. 

and  live  for  himself— thpxt  razor  shaves  clean  indeed.  There 
is  a  minister ;  when  he  first  began  his  ministry  he  could  say, 
"  God  is  my  witness  I  have  but  one  object,  that  I  may  free 
my  skirts  from  the  blood  of  every  one  of  my  hearers,  that  I 
may  preach  the  gospel  faithfully  and  honor  my  Master."  In 
a  little  time,  tempted  by  Satan,  he  changes  his  tone  and  talks 
like  this  :  "  I  must  keep  my  congregation  up.  If  I  preach  such 
hard  doctrine,  they  v/on't  come.  Did  not  one  of  the  news- 
papers criticise  me,  and  did  not  some  of  my  people  go  away 
from  me  because  of  it  ?  I  must  mind  what  I  am  at.  I  must 
keep  this  thing  going,  I  must  look  out  a  little  sharper,  and 
prune  my  speech  down.  I  must  adopt  a  little  gentler  style, 
or  preach  a  new-fashioned  doctrine  ;  for  I  must  keep  my  pop- 
ularity up.  "What  is  to  become  of  me  if  I  go  down  ?  People 
will  say,  '  Up  like  a  rocket,  down  like  the  stick ;'  and  then 
shall  all  my  enemies  laugh."  Ah,  when  once  a  man  begins  to 
care  so  much  as  a  snap  of  the  finger  about  the  world,  it  is  all 
over  with  him.  If  he  can  go  to  his  pulpit  and  say,  "  I  have 
got  a  message  to  deliver;  and  whether  they  will  hear  or  whe- 
ther they  will  not  hear,  I  will  deliver  it  as  God  puts  it  into 
my  mouth  ;  I  will  not  change  the  dot  of  an  i,  or  the  cross  of  a 
t  for  the  biggest  man  that  lives,  or  to  bring  in  the  mightiest 
congregation  that  ever  sat  at  a  minister's  feet" — that  man  is 
mighty.  He  does  not  let  human  judgments  move  him,  and 
he  ^vill  move  the  world.  But  let  him  turn  aside,  and  think 
about  his  congregation,  and  how  that  shall  be  kept  up ;  ah 
Samson !  how  are  thy  locks  shorn  ?  What  canst  thou  do 
now?  That  fiilse  Delilah  has  destroyed  thee — thine  eyes  are 
put  out,  thy  comfort  is  taken  away,  and  thy  future  ministry 
shall  be  like  the  grinding  of  an  ass  around  the  continually  re- 
volving mill ;  thou  shalt  have  no  rest  or  peace  ever  afterwards. 
Or  let  him  tui-n  aside  another  way.  Suppose  he  should  say, 
"  I  must  get  prefei-raent  or  wealth,  I  must  look  well  to  myself, 
I  must  see  my  nest  feathered,  that  must  be  the  object  of  my  life." 
I  am  not  now  speaking  of  the  ministry  merely,  but  of  nil  the 
consecrated ;  and  as  sure  as  ever  we  begin  to  make  ^self  the 
primary  object  of  our  existence  our  locks  are  shorn.  "Now," 
says  the  Lord,  "  I  gave  that  man  strength,  but  not  to  use  it 


SAilSON   CONQUERED.  249 

for  himself.  Then  I  put  him  into  a  high  position,  but  not  that 
he  miglit  clothe  himself  about  with  glory ;  I  put  him  there 
that  he  might  look  to  my  cause,  to  my  interests ;  and  if  he 
does  not  do  that  first,  down  he  shall  go."  You  remember 
Queen  Esther:  she  is  exalted  from  being  a  simple,  humble 
maiden,  to  become  the  wife  of  the  great  monarch — Ahasueius. 
Well,  Unman  gets  a  decree  against  her  nation,  that  it  shall  be 
destroyed.  Poor  Mordecai  comes  to  Esther,  and  says,  "  You 
must  go  in  to  the  king  and  speak  to  him."  "  Well,"  says  she, 
"  but  if  I  do  I  shall  die."  "Ah,"  says  he,  "  if  thou  altogether 
boldest  thy  peace  at  this  time,  then  shall  there  enlargement 
and  deliverance  arise  to  the  Jews  from  another  place ;  but 
thou  and  thy  father's  house  shall  be  destroyed  ;  and  who 
knoweth  whether  thou  art  come  to  the  kingdom  for  such  a 
time  as  this  ?"  Esther  was  not  made  Queen  Esther  that  she 
might  make  herself  glorious,  but  that  she  might  be  in  a  posi- 
tion to  save  the  Jews ;  and  now  if  she  prefers  herself  before 
her  country  then  it  is  all  over  with  her — Vashti's  fate  shall  be 
as  nothing  compared  with  her  destruction. 

And  so,  if  you  live  in  this  world,  and  God  prospers  you, 
you  get  perhaps  into  some  position,  and  you  say,  "  Here  I  am  ; 
I  will  look  out  for  myself;  I  have  been  serving  the  church 
before,  but  now  I  tv'ill  look  to  myself  a  little.'/  "  Come, 
come," says  human  nature,  "you  must  look  after  your  fimily" 
(which  means,  you  must  look  after  youiself).  Very  well,  do 
it  sir,  as  your  main  object,  and  you  are  a  ruined  man.  "  Seek 
first  the  kh)gdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  these 
Bhall  be  added  to  you."  If  you  keep  your  eye  single,  your 
whole  body  shall  be  full  of  light.  Though  you  seemed  as  if 
you  Ijad  sliut  out  hnlf  the  light  by  having  that  single  eye,  yet 
your  body  shall  be  full  of  light.  But  begin  to  have  two 
masters,  and  two  objects  to  serve,  and  you  shall  serve  neither  ; 
you  shall  neither  prosper  for  this  world,  nor  for  that  which  is 
to  come.  Oh,  Christian,  above  all  things  take  care  of  thy 
consecration.  Ever  feel  that  thou  art  wholly  given  up  to  God, 
and  to  God  alone. 

IV,  And  now,  lastly,  there  is  the  Christian's  disgracb 
His  locks  are  cut  off.    I  have  seen  him,  young  as  I  am,  and 

11* 


250  SAMSON   CONQUERED. 

you  with  gray  hairs  upon  your  brows  have  seen  him  oflcner 
than  I ;  I  have  seen  him  in  the  ministry.     He  spake  Uke  an 
angel  of  God ;  many  there  were  that  regarded  him,  and  did 
hang  upon  his  lips ;  lie  seemed  to  be  sound  in  doctrine  and 
earnest  in  manner.     I  have  seen  him  turn  aside  ;  it  was  but  a 
little  thing — some  slight  deviation  from  the  ancient  orthodoxy 
of  his  fathers,  some  slight  violation  of  the  law  of  his  church. 
I  have  seen  him  till  he  has  given  up  doctrine  after  doctrine, 
until,  at  last,  the  very  place  wherein  he  preached  has  become 
a  bye-word  and  a  proverb  ;  and  the  man  is  pointed  out  by  the 
gray-headed  sire  to  his  child  as  a  man  who  is  to  be  looked 
upon  with  suspicion  ;  who,  if  he  lectures,  is  to  be  heard  with 
caution ;  and  if  he  preaches,  is  not  to  be  listened  to  at  all. 
Have  you  not  seen  him  ?     What  disgrace  was  there  !     What 
a  fall !     The  man  who  came  out  in  the  camps  of  Dan,  and 
seemed  to  be  moved  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  has  become 
the  slave  of  error.     He  has  gone  into  the  very  camps  of  the 
enemy,  and  there  he  is  now,  grinding  in  the  mill  for  the  Phi- 
listine, whom  he  ouglit  to  have  been  striking  with  his  arm. 
iSTow  there  are  two  ways  of  accounting  for  this.     Such  a  man 
is  either  a  thorough  hypocrite  or  a  fallen  believer.     Some- 
times people  say  of  persons  who  turn  aside  to  sin,  "There 
now ;  look,  there  is  a  Christian  fallen — a  child  of  God  fallen." 
It  is  something  like  the  vulgar,  when  at  night  they  see  a  bright 
light  in  the  sky,  and  say,  "Ah,  there  is  a  star  fallen."     It  was 
not  a  star ;  the  stars  are  all  right.     Take  a  telescope ;  they 
are  every  one  there.     The  Great  Bear  has  not  lost  a  star  out 
of  its  tail ;  and  if  you  look,  there  is  the  belt  of  Oiion  all  safe, 
and  the  dagger  has  not  dropped  out  of  it.     What  is  it,  then  ? 
We  do  not  know  exactly  what  it  is.     Perhaps  it  may  be  a  few 
gases  up  there  for  a  little  while,  that  have  burst,  and  that  is 
all ;  or  some  wandering  substance  cast  down,  and  quite  time 
that  it  should  be.     But  the  stars  are  all  right.     So,  depend 
upon  it,  the  children  of  God  are  always  safe.     'Now  these  men 
who  have  turned  aside  and  broken  their  consecration  vow,  are 
pointed  at  as  a  disgrace  to  themselves  and  dishonor  to  the 
church.     And  you  who  are  members  of  Christ's  church,  you 
have  seen  men  who  stood  in  your  ranks  as  firm  soldiers  of  the 


SAMSON  CONQUERED.  251 

cross,  and  you  have  noticed  them  go  out  from  us,  "  because 
they  were  not  of  us,"  or  like  poor  Samson,  you  have  seen 
them  go  to  their  graves  with  the  eyes  of  their  comfort  put  out, 
with  the  feet  of  their  usefulness  bound  with  brazen  fetters, 
and  with  the  strength  of  their  anns  entirely  departed  from 
them.  Now,  do  any  of  you  wish  to  be  backsliders  ?  Do  you 
wish  to  betray  the  holy  profession  of  your  religion  ?  My 
brethren,  is  there  one  among  you  who  this  day  makes  a  pro- 
fession of  love  to  Christ,  who  desires  to  be  an  apostate  ?  Is 
there  one  o^f  you  who  desires  like  Samson  to  have  his  eyes  put 
out,  and  to  be  made  to  grind  in  the  mill  ?  Would  you,  like 
David,  commit  a  great  sin,  and  go  with  broken  bones  to  the 
grave?  Would  you,  like  Lot,  be  drunken,  and  fall  into  lust  ? 
No,  I  know  what  you  say,  "  Lord,  let  my  path  be  like  the 
eagle's  flight ;  let  me  fly  upwards  to  the  sun,  and  never  stay 
and  never  turn  aside.  Oh,  give  me  grace  that  I  may  serve 
thee,  like  Caleb,  with  a  perfect  heart,  and  that  from  the  be- 
ginning even  to  the  end  of  my  days,  my  course  may  be  as  the 
shining  light,  which  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day."  Ay,  I  know  that  is  your  desire.  How,  then,  shall  it 
be  accomplished  ?  Look  well  to  your  consecration  ;  see  that 
it  is  sincere ;  see  that  you  mean  it,  and  then  look  up  to  the 
Holy  Spirit,  after  you  have  looked  to  your  consecration,  and 
beg  of  him  to  give  you  daily  grace ;  for  as  day  by  day  the 
manna  fell,  so  must  you  receive  daily  food  from  on  high.  And, 
remember,  it  is  not  by  any  grace  you  have  in  you,  but  by  the 
grace  that  is  in  Christ,  and  that  must  be  given  to  you  hour  by 
hour,  that  you  are  to  stand,  and  having  done  all,  to  be  crowned 
at  last  as  a  faithful  one,  who  has  endured  unto  the  end.  I  ask 
your  prayers  that  I  may  be  kept  faithful  to  my  Lord ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  I  will  offer  my  earnest  prayers  that  you  may 
serve  him  while  he  lends  you  breath,  that  when  your  voice  is 
lost  in  death,  you  may,  throughout  a  never  ending  immoital- 
ity,  praise  him  in  louder  and  sweeter  strains. 

And  as  for  you  that  have  not  given  yourselves  to  God,  and 
are  not  consecrated  to  him,  I  can  only  speak  to  you  as  to 
PhiHstines,  and  warn  you,  that  the  day  shall  come  when  Israel 
shall  bo  avenged  upon  the  Philistines.    You  may  be  one  day 


252  SAMSON    CONQUERED. 

assembled  ui3on  the  roof  of  your  pleasures,  enjoying  yourselves 
in  health  and  strength ;  but  there  is  a  Samson,  called  Death, 
who  shall  pull  down  the  pillars  of  your  tabernacle,  and  you 
must  fall  and  be  destroyed — and  great  shall  be  the  ruin.  May 
God  give  you  grace  that  you  may  be  consecrated  to  Christ ; 
so  that  living  or  dying,  you  may  rejoice  in  him,  and  may  share 
with  him  the  glory  of  his  Father. 


SEllMON  XVI. 
LOOKING    UNTO    JESUS. 

"  They  looked  unto  him,  and  ■were  lightened :  and  their  faces  were  not 
ashamed." — Psalm  xxxiv.  5. 

Fbom  the  connection  we  are  to  understand  tlie  pronoun 
"  him"  as  referring  to  the  word  "  Lord"  in  the  preceding  verse. 
"  They  looked  unto  the  Lord  Jehovah,  and  were  lightened." 
But  no  man  ever  yet  looked  to  Jehovah  God,  as  he  is  in  himself, 
and  found  any  comfort  in  him,  for  "  oar  God  is  a  consuming 
fire."  An  absolute  God,  apart  from  the  Lord  Jesus  Ciirist, 
can  afford  no  comfort  whatever  to  a  troubled  heart.  We  may 
look  to  him,  and  we  shall  be  blinded,  for  the  light  of  Godhead 
is  insufferable,  and  as  mortal  eye  can  not  fix  its  gaze  upon  the 
sun,  no  human  intellect  could  ever  look  unto  God,  and  find 
light,  for  the  brightness  of  God  would  strike  the  eye  of  the 
mind  with  eternal  blindness.  The  only  way  in  which  we  can 
see  God  is  through  the  Mediator  Jesus  Christ. 


•o" 


"  Till  God  in  human  flesh  I  see, 
My  thoughts  no  comfort  find" — 

God  shrouded  and  vailed  in  the  manhood — there  we  can  with 
steady  gaze  behold  him,  for  so  he  cometh  down  to  us,  and  our 
poor  finite  intelligence  can  understand  and  lay  hold  upon  him. 
I  shall  therefore  use  my  text  this  morning,  and  I  think  very 
legitimately,  in  reference  to  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ 
— "They  looked  unto  A/m,  and  were  lightened  ;"  for  when  we 
look  at  God,  as  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  and  behold 
the  Godhead  as  it  is  apparent  in  the  incarnate  Man,  who  was 
horn  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  was  crucified  by  Pontius  Pilate, 
we  do  see  that  which  enlightens  the  mind,  and  casts  rays  of 
comfort  into  our  awakened  heart. 


254  LOOKING    UXTO    JESUS. 

And  now  this  morning,  I  shall  first  invite  yon,  in  order  to 
illustrate  ray  text,  to  look  to  Jesus  Christ  in  his  life  on  earth, 
and  I  hope  there  are  some  of  you  who  will  be  lightened  by 
that.  We  shall  then  look  to  him  on  his  cross.  Afterward  we 
shall  look  to  him  in  his  resurrection.  We  shall  look  to  him  in 
his  intercession  ;  and  lastly,  we  shall  look  to  him  in  his  second 
coming ;  and  it  may  be,  as  with  faithful  eye  w^e  look  upon 
him,  the  verse  shall  be  fulfilled  in  our  experience,  which  is  the 
best  proof  of  a  truth,  when  we  prove  it  to  be  true  in  our  own 
hearts.  We  shall  "  look  unto  him"  and  we  shall  "  be  light- 
ened." 

I.  First,  then,  we  shall  look  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Cheist  in 
His  LIFE.  And  here  the  troubled  saint  will  find  the  most  to 
enlighten  him.  In  the  example,  in  the  patience,  in  the  suffer- 
ings of  Jesus  Christ,  there  are  stars  of  glory  to  cheer  the 
midnight  darkness  of  the  sky  of  your  tribulation.  Come 
hither,  ye  children  of  God,  and  whatever  now  are  your  dis- 
tresses, whether  they  be  temporal  or  spiritual,  you  shall,  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  Christ  and  his  sufferings,  find  sufficient  to  cheer 
and  comfort  you,  if  the  Holy  Spirit  shall  now  open  your  eyes 
to  look  unto  him.  Perhaps  I  have  among  my  congregation, 
indeed  I  am  sure  I  have,  some  wdio  are  plunged  in  the  depths 
of  poverty.  You  are  the  children  of  toil ;  with  much  sweat 
of  your  brow  you  eat  your  bread  ;  the  heavy  yoke  of  oppres- 
sion galls  your  neck;  perhaps  at  this  time  you  are  suffering  the 
very  extremity  of  hunger ;  you  are  pinched  with  famine,  and 
though  in  the  house  of  God,  your  body  complains,  for  you  feel 
that  you  are  brought  very  low.  Look  unto  him,  thou  poor 
distressed  brother  in  Jesus;  look  unto  him,  and  be  lightened. 

"  Why  dost  thou  complain  of  want  or  distress, 
Temptation  or  pain  ? — ^he  told  thee  no  less  ; 
The  heirs  of  salvation,  we  know  from  his  word, 
Through  much  tribulation  must  follow  their  Lord." 

See  him  there !  Forty  days  he  fasts  and  he  hungers.  Sue 
him  again  ;  he  treads  the  weary  way,  and  at  last  all  athirst  he 
sits  upon  the  curb  of  the  well  of  Sychar;  and  he  the  Lord  of 
glory,  he  who  holds  the  clouds  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  said 


LOOKING    UNTO   JESUS.  256 

to  a  woman,  "Give  me  to  drink."  And  shall  the  servant  be 
above  his  master,  and  the  disciple  above  his  Lord  ?  If  lie  suf- 
fered hunger,  and  thirst,  and  nakedness,  O  heir  of  poverty, 
be  of  good  cheer  ;  in  all  these  thou  hast  fellowship  with  Jesus  ; 
therefore  be  comforted,  and  look  unto  him  and  be  lightened. 

Perhaps  your  trouble  is  of  another  caste.  You  have  come 
here  to-day  smarting  from  the  forked  tongue  of  that  adder — 
slander.  Your  character,  though  pure  and  spotless  before 
God,  seems  to  be  lost  before  man ;  for  that  foul  slanderous 
thing  hath  sought  to  take  away  that  which  is  dearer  to  you 
than  life  itself,  your  character,  your  good  fame ;  and  you  are 
this  day  filled  with  bitterness  and  made  drunken  with  worm- 
wood, because  you  have  been  accused  of  crimes  which  your 
soul  loathes.  Come,  thou  child  of  mourning,  this  indeed  is  a 
heavy  blow ;  poverty  is  like  Solomon's  w^hip,  but  slander  fs 
like  the  scorpion  of  Rehoboam  ;  to  fill  into  the  depths  of  pov- 
erty is  to  have  it  on  thy  little  finger,  but  to  be  slandered  is  to 
have  it  on  thy  loins.  But  in  all  this  thou  mayest  have  com- 
fort from  Christ.  Come  and  look  unto  him  and  be  lightened. 
The  King  of  kings  was  called  a  Samaritan  ;  they  said  of  him 
that  he  had  a  devil  and  was  mad ;  and  yet  infinite  wisdom 
dwelt  in  him,  though  he  was  charged  with  madness.  And  was 
he  not  ever  pure  and  holy  ?  And  did  they  not  call  him  a 
drunken  man  and  a  wine-bibber  ?  He  was  his  Father's  glo- 
rious Son  ;  and  yet  they  said  he  did  cast  out  devils  thi  ough 
Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the  devils.  Come,  poor  slandered 
one ;  wipe  that  tear  away  !  "  If  they  have  called  the  Master 
of  the  house  Beelzebub,  how  much  more  shall  they  call  they 
of  his  household  ?"  If  they  had  honor.ed  him,  then  might 
you  have  expected  that  they  would  honor  you  ;  but  inasmuch 
as  they  mocked  him  and  took  away  his  glory  and  his  charac- 
ter, blush  not  to  bear  the  reproach  and  the  shame,  for  ho  is 
with  you,  carrying  his  cross  before  you,  and  that  cioss  was 
heavier  than  yours.     Look,  then,  unto  him  and  be  lightened. 

But  I  hear  another  say,  "  Ah  !  but  my  trouble  is  worse  than 
cither  of  those.  I  am  not  to-day  smarting  from  slandcT,  nor 
am  I  burdened  with  penury ;  but,  sir,  the  hand  of  God  lies 
heavy  upon  rae ;  he  hath  brought  my  sins  to  ray  remembrance ; 


250  LOOKING   UNTO   JESUS. 

he  hath  taken  away  the  bright  shming  of  his  countenance; 
once  I  did  believe  in  him,  and  could  '  read  my  title  clear  to 
mansions  in  the  skies,'  but  to-day  I  am  brought  very  low  ;  he 
hath  lifted  me  up  and  cast  me  down  ;  like  a  wrestler,  he  has 
elevated  me  that  he  might  dash  me  to  the  ground  with  the  great- 
er force ;  my  bones  are  sore  vexed,  and  my  spirit  within  me  is 
melted  with  anguish."  Come,  my  tried  brother,  "  Look  unto 
him  and  be  lightened."  No  longer  groan  over  thine  own 
miseries,  but  come  thou  with  me  and  look  unto  him  if  thou 
canst.  Seest  thou  the  garden  of  Olives  ?  It  is  a  cold  night, 
and  the  ground  is  crisp  beneath  thy  feet,  for  the  frost  is  hard  ; 
and  there,  in  the  gloom  of  the  olive  garden,  kneels  thy  Lord. 
Listen  to  him.  Canst  thou  understand  the  music  of  his  groans, 
the  meaning  of  his  sighs  ?  Sure,  thy  griefs  are  not  so  heavy 
as  his  were,  when  drops  of  blood  were  forced  through  his 
skin,  and  a  bloody  sweat  did  stain  the  ground !  Say,  are  thy 
wresthngs  greater  than  his  ?  Ifj  then,  he  had  to  combat  with 
the  powers  of  darkness,  expect  to  do  so  also  ;  and  look  thou 
to  him  in  the  last  solemn  hour  of  his  extremity,  and  hear  him 
say,  "My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?"  And 
when  thou  hast  heard  that,  murmur  not,  as  though  some 
strange  thing  had  happened  to  thee,  as  if  thou  hast  to  join  in 
his  "  lama  sabbacthani,"  and  hast  to  sweat  some  few  drops  of 
his  bloody  sweat.  "  They  looked  unto  him,  and  were  light- 
ened." 

Bat,  possibly  I  may  have  here  some  one  who  is  much  per- 
secuted  by  man.  "Ah!"  saith  one,  "I  can  not  practice  my 
religion  with  comfort.  My  friends  have  turned  against  me  ;  I 
am  mocked,  and  jeered,  and  reviled  for  Christ's  sake."  Come, 
Christian,  be  not  afraid  of  all  this,  but  "look  unto  him,  and 
be  lightened."  Remember  how  they  persecuted  him.  Oh  ! 
think  thou  of  the  shame  and  spitting,  the  plucking  off  the 
hair,  the  reviling  of  the  soldiers  ;  think  thou  of  that  fearful 
march  through  the  streets,  when  every  man  did  hoot  him,  and 
when  even  they  that  were  crucified  with  him  did  revile  him. 
Hast  thou  been  worse  treated  than  he  ?  Methinks  this  is 
enough  to  make  you  gird  your  armor  on  once  more.  Why 
need  you  blush  to  be  as  much  dishonored  as  your  Master  ?     It 


LOOKIXG    UNTO    JESUS.  257 

was  this  thought  that  cheered  the  martyrs  of  old.  They  that 
fought  the  bloody  fight,  knew  they  should  win  the  blood-red 
crown — that  ruby  crown  of  martyrdom ;  therefore  they  did 
endure,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible ;  for  this  ever  cheered 
nnd  comforted  them.  They  remembered  him  wlio  had  "  en- 
dured such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himseUj  that  they 
might  not  be  weary  or  faint  in  their  minds."  They  "  resisted 
unto  blood,  striving  against  sin  ;"  for  they  knew  their  Mastei 
had  done  the  same,  and  his  example  did  comfort  them.  I  nm 
persuaded,  beloved  brothers  and  sisters,  that  if  we  looked 
more  to  Christ,  our  troubles  would  not  become  any  thing  like 
so  black.  In  the  darkest  night,  looking  to  Christ  will  clear 
the  ebony  sky ;  when  the  darkness  seems  thick,  like  that  of 
Egypt,  darkness  that  might  be  felt,  like  solid  pillars  of  ebony, 
even  then,  like  a  bright  .lightning  flash,  as  bright  but  not  as 
transient,  will  a  look  to  Jesus  prove.  One  glimpse  at  him 
may  well  sufiice  for  alt  our  toils  while  on  the  road.  Cheered 
by  his  voice,  nerved  by  his  strength,  we  are  prepared  to  do 
and  suiTer,  even  as  he  did,  to  the  death,  if  he  will  be  with  us 
even  unto  the  end.  This,  then,  is  our  first  point.  We  trust 
that  those  of  you  who  are  weary  Christians,  will  not  forget  to 
"look  unto  Inm,  and  be  lightened." 

II.  And  now  I  have  to  invite  you  to  a  more  dreary  siglit ; 
but,  strange  it  is,  just  as  the  sight  becomes  more  black,  so  to 
us  does  it  grow  more  bright.  The  more  deeply  the  Saviour 
dived  into  the  depths  of  misery,  the  brighter  were  the  pearls 
which  he  brought  up — the  greater  his  griefs,  the  greater  our 
joys,  and  the  deeper  his  dishonor,  the  brighter  our  glories. 
Come,  then — and  this  time  I  shall  ask  poor,  doubting,  trem- 
bling sinners  and  saints  to  come  with  me — come  ye  now  to 
Calvary's  cross.  There,  on  the  summit  of  that  little  Iiill,  out- 
side the  gates  of  Jerusalem,  where  common  criminals  were 
ordinarily  put  to  death — the  Tyburn  of  Jerusalem,  the  Old 
Bailey  of  that  city,  where  criminals  were  executed — tliere 
stand  three  crosses ;  the  center  one  is  reserved  for  one  who  is 
reputed  to  be  the  greatest  of  criminals.  See  there !  They 
have  nailed  him  to  the  cross.  It  is  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory, 
before  whose  feet  angels  delight  to  pour  full  vials  of  glory. 


258  LOOKING   UNTO    JESUS. 

They  have  nailed  him  to  the  cross :  he  hangs  there  in  mid- 
heaven,  dying,  bleeding;  he  is  thirsty,  and  he  cries.  They 
bring  him  vinegar,  and  thrust  it  into  his  mouth.  He  is  in  suf- 
fering, and  he  needs  sympathy,  but  they  mock  at  him,  and 
they  say,  "  He  saved  othei-s  ;  himself  he  can  not  save."  They 
misquote  his  words ;  they  challenge  him  now  to  destroy  the 
temple,  and  build  it  in  three  days ;  while  the  very  thing  is 
being  fulfilled,  they  taunt  him  with  his  powerlessness  to  ac- 
complish it.  Now  see  him,  ere  the  vail  is  drawn  over  agonies 
too  black  for  eye  to  behold.  See  him  iiow  !  Was  ever  face 
marred  like  that  face  ?  Was  ever  heart  so  big  with  agony  ? 
And  did  ever  eyes  seem  so  pregnant  with  the  fire  of  sufiering, 
as  those  great  w^ells  of  fiery  agony  ?  Come  and  behold  him, 
come  and  look  to  him  now.  The  sun  is  eclipsed,  refusing  to 
behold  him !  earth  quakes;  the  dead  rise ;  the  horrors  of  his 
sufi*erings  have  startled  earth  itself ;  • 

"  He  dies  1  the  friend  of  sinners  dies ;" 

and  we  invite  you  to  look  to  this  scene  that  you  may  be 
lightened.  What  are  your  doubts  this  morning  ?  Whatever 
they  be,  they  can  find  a  kind  and  fond  solution  here, 'by  look- 
ing at  Christ  on  the  cross.  You  hav^  come  here,  perhaps, 
doubting  God's  mercy ;  look  to  Christ  upon  the  cross,  and 
can  you  doubt  it  then  ?  If  God  were  not  full  of  mercy,  and 
plenteous  in  his  compassion,  would  he  have  given  his  Son  to 
bleed  and  die  ?  Think  you,  that  a  Father  would  rend  his 
darling  from  his  heart  and  nail  him  to  a  tree,  that  he  might 
suffer  an  ignominious  death  for  our  sakes,  and  yet  be  hard, 
merciless,  and  without  pity  ?  God  forbid  the  impious  thought ! 
There  must  be  mercy  in  the  heart  of  God,  or  else  there  had 
never  been  a  cross  on  Calvary. 

But  do  you  doubt  God's  power  to  save  ?  Are  you  saying 
in  yourself  this  morning,  "  How  can  he  forgive  so  great  a  sin- 
ner as  I  am?"  Oh!  look  there,  sinner,  look  there,  to  the  grent 
atonement  made,  to  the  utmost  ransom  pnid.  Dost  thou  think 
that  that  blood  has  not  an  efficacy  to  pardon  and  to  justify  ? 
True,  without  that  cross  it  had  been  an  unanswerable  ques- 
tion— "How  can  God  be  just,  and  yet  the  justifier  of  the  un- 


LOOKING   UNTO   JESUS.  259 

godly  ?"  But  see  there  the  bleeding  substitute !  and  know 
that  God  has  accepted  his  sufferings  as  an  equivalent  for  the 
woes  of  all  believers;  and  then  let  thy  spirit  dare  to  think,  if 
it  can,  that  there  is  not  sufficient  in  the  blood  of  Christ  to  en- 
able God  to  vindicate  his  justice,  and  yet  to  have  mercy  upon 
sinners. 

But  I  know  you  say,  "  My  doubt  is  not  of  his  general 
mercy,  nor  of  liis  power  to  forgive,  but  of  his  willingness  to 
forgive  we."  Now  I  beseech  you,  by  him  that  liveth  and  was 
dead,  do  not  this  morning  look  into  your  own  heart  in  order 
to  find  an  answer  to  that  difficulty  ;  do  not  now  sit  down  and 
look  at  your  sins  ;  they  have  brought  you  into  the  danger — 
they  can  not  bring  you  out  of  it.  The  best  answer  you  will 
ever  get,  is  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  Sit  down,  when  you  get 
home  this  morning,  for  half  an  hour,  in  quiet  contemplation  ; 
sit  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  contemplate  the  dying  Saviour, 
and  I  will  defy  you  then  to  say,  "  I  doubt  his  love  to  me." 
Looking  at  Christ  begets  faith.  You  can  not  believe  on  Christ 
except  as  you  see  him,  and  if  you  look  to  him  you  will  learn 
that  he  is  able  to  save  ;  you  will  learn  his  loving-kindness ;  and 
you  can  not  doubt  him  after  having  once  beheld  him.  Dr. 
Watts  says, 

"  His  worth,  if  all  the  nations  knew, 
Sure  the  whole  world  would  love  him  too  ;" 

and  I  am  sure  it  is  quite  true  if  I  read  it  another  way — 

"  His  worth,  if  all  the  nations  know. 
Sure  the  whole  world  would  irmt  him  too." 

Oh,  that  you  would  look  to  him  now,  and  your  doubts  would 
soon  be  removed  ;  for  there  is  nothing  that  so  speedily  kills  all 
doubt  and  fear,  as  a  look  into  the  loving  eye  of  the  bleeding, 
<5ying  Lord.  "Ah,"  says  one,  "but  my  doubts  are  concern- 
ing my  own  salvation  in  this  respect ;  I  can  not  be  so  holy  as 
I  want  to  be."  "  I  liave  tried  very  much,"  says  one,  "  to  get 
rid  of  all  my  sins,  and  I  can  not ;  I  have  labored  to  live  with- 
out wicked  thoughts,  and  without  unholy  acts,  and  I  still  find 
that  my  heart  is  '  deceitful  above  all  things ;'  and  I  wander 


260  LOOKIXG   UNTO    JESUS. 

from  God.  Surely  I  can  not  be  saved  while  I  am  like  this." 
Stay  !  Look  to  him,  and  be  lightened.  What  business  have 
you  to  be  looking  to  yourself?  The  first  business  of  a  sinner 
is  not  with  himself,  but  with  Christ.  Your  business  is  to  come 
to  Christ,  sick,  weary,  and  soul- diseased,  and  ask  Christ  to 
cure  you.  You  are  not  to  be  your  own  physician,  and  then 
go  to  Christ,  but  just  as  you  are ;  the  only  salvation  for  you 
is  to  trust  imj)licitly,  simply,  nakedly,  on  Christ.  As  I  some- 
times put  it — make  Christ  the  only  pillar  of  your  hope,  and 
never  seek  to  buttress  or  prop  him  up.  "  He  is  able,  he  is 
willing,"  All  he  asks  of  you  is  just  to  trust  him.  As  for  your 
good  works,  they  shall  come  afterwards.  They  are  after-fruits 
of  the  Spirit :  but  jouv  first  business  is  not  to  do,  but  to  be- 
lieve. Look  to  Jesus,  and  put  your  only  trust  in  him.  "  Oh," 
another  cries,  ''  sir,  I  am  afraid  I  do  not  feel  my  need  of  a 
Saviour  as  I  ought."  Looking  to  yourselves  again  !  all  look- 
ing to  yourselves  you  see !  This  is  all  wrong.  Our  doubts 
and  fears  all  arise  from  this  cause — we  will  turn  our  eyes  the 
wrong  way.  Just  look  to  the  cross  again,  just  as  the  poor  thief 
did  when  he  was  dying ;  he  said,  "  Lord,  remember  me  when 
thou  comest  into  thy  kingdom."  Do  the  same.  You  may 
tell  him,  if  you  please,  that  you  do  not  feel  your  need  of  him 
as  you  ought;  you  may  put  this  among  your  other  sins,  that 
you  fear  you  have  not  a  right  sense  of  your  great  and  enor- 
mous guilt.  You  may  add  to  all  your  confessions,  this  cry, 
"  Lord  help  me  to  confess  my  sins  better ;  help  me  to  feel  them 
more  penitently."  But  recollect,  it  is  not  your  repentance 
that  saves  you ;  it  is  just  the  blood  of  Christ,  streaming  from 
his  hands,  and  feet,  and  side.  Oh !  I  beseech  you  by  him 
whose  servant  I  am,  this  morning  turn  your  eyes  to  the  cross 
of  Christ.  There  he  hangs  this  day ;  he  is  lifted  up  in  your 
midst.  As  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even 
so  is  tl)e  Son  of  man  lifted  up  to-day  in  your  eyes,  that  who- 
soever believeth  in  him  may  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life. 

And  you  children  of  God,  I  turn  to  you,  for  you  have  your 
doubts  too.  Would  you  get  rid  of  them?  Would  you  re-. 
joice  in  the  Lord  w^ith  faith  unmoved  and  confidence  unshaken  ? 


LOOKING    UNTO   JESUS.  261 

Then  look  to  Jesus ;  look  ngain  to  biin  and  you  shall  be  light- 
ened. I  know  not  how  it  is  with  you,  my  beloved  friends,  but 
I  very  often  find  myself  in  a  doubting  frame  of  mind  ;  and  it 
seems  to  be  a  question  whether  I  have  any  love  to  Christ  or 
not.  And  despite  the  fact  that  some  laugh  at  the  hymn,  it  is 
a  hymn  that  I  am  forced  to  sing  : — 

"  'Tis  a  point  Hong  to  know, 

Oft  it  causes  anxious  thought ; 
Do  I  love  the  Lord  or  no? 
Am  I  his,  or  am  I  not  ?" 

And  really  I  am  convinced  that  every  Christian  has  his 
doubts  at  times,  and  that  the  people  who  do  not  doubt  nre 
just  the  people  that  ought  to  doubt ;  for  he  who  never  doubts 
about  his  state  perhaps  may  do  so  when  it  is  too  late.  I  knew 
a  man  who  said  he  never  had  a  doubt  for  thirty  years.  I 
told  him  that  I  knew  a  person  who  never  had  a  doubt  about 
him  for  thirty  years.  "  How  is  that  ?"  said  he,  "  that  is 
strange."  He  thought  it  a  compliment.  I  said,  "I  knew  a 
man  who  never  had  a  doubt  about  you  for  thirty  years.  He 
knew  you  were  always  the  greatest  hypocrite  he  ever  met ; 
he  had  no  doubt  about  you."  But  this  man  had  no  doubt 
about  himself:  he  was  a  chosen  child  of  God,  a  great  flivorito 
of  the  ^lost  Higii ;  he  loved  the  doctrine  of  election,  wrote  it 
on  his  very  brow  ;  and  yet  he  was  the  hardest  driver  and  most 
cruel  oppressor  to  the  poor  I  ever  met  with,  and  when  brought 
to  poverty  himself,  he  might  very  frequently  be  seen  rolling 
through  the  streets.  And  this  man  had  not  a  doubt  for  thirty 
years;  and  yet  the  best  people  are  always  doubting.  Some 
of  those  who  are  just  livin^jj  outside  the  gates  of  heaven,  are 
afjaid  of  being  cast  into  hell  after  all ;  while  those  people  who 
are  on  the  high  road  to  the  pit  are  not  the  least  afraid.  How- 
ever, if  you  would  get  rid  of  your  doubts  once  more,  turn 
to  Christ.  You  know  what  Dr.  Carey  had  put  on  his  tomb- 
stone— just  these  words,  for  they  were  his  comfort : — 

"  A  guilty,  weak,  and  helpless  worm, 
Into  Christ's  arms  I  fall ; 
He  i8*my  strength  and  Tightcousneaa, 
My  Josus  and  my  all" 


262  LOOKING   UNTO   JESUS. 

Remember  what  that  eminent  Scotch  divine  said,  when  he 
was  dying.  Some  one  said  to  him,  "What  are  you  doing 
now?"  Said  he,  "I  am  just  gathering  all  my  good  works  up 
together,  and  I  am  throwing  them  all  overboard  ;  and  I  am 
lashing  myself  to  the  plank  of  free  grace,  and  I  hope  to  swim 
to  glory  on  it."  So  do  you  do  ;  every  day  keep  your  eye  only 
on  Christ ;  and  so  long  as  your  eye  is  single,  your  whole  body 
must  and  shall  be  full  of  light.  But  if  you  once  look  cross- 
eyed, first  to  yourself  and  then  to  Christ,  your  whole  body 
shall  be  full  of  darkness.  Remember,  then,  Christian,  to  hie 
awa}-  to  the  cross.  When  that  great  black  dog  of  hell  is 
after  you,  away  to  the  crossT  Go  \\'here  the  sheep  goes  when 
he  is  molested  by  the  dog;  go  to  the  shepherd.  The  dog  is 
afraid  of  the  shepheid's  crook  ;  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  it, 
it  is  one  of  the  things  that  shall  comfort  you.  "  Thy  rod 
and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me."  Away  to  the  cross,  my 
brother!  away  to  the  cross,  if  thou  wouldst  get  rid  of  thy 
doubts.  Certain  I  am,  that  if  we  lived  more  with  Jesus, 
were  more  like  Jesus,  and  trusted  more  to  Jesus,  doubts  and 
fears  would  be  very  scarce  and  rare  things,  and  we  should 
have  as  little  to  complain  of  them  as  the  first  emigrants  to 
Australia  had  to  complain  of  thistles ;  for  they  found  none 
there,  and  none  would  have  been  there  if  they  had  not  been 
carried  there.  If  we  live  simply  by  faith  on  the  cross  of  Christ, 
we  live  in  a  land  where  there  are  no  thistles;  but  if  we  will 
live  on  self,  we  shall  have  plenty  of  thistles  and  thorns,  and 
briars  and  nettles  growing  there.  "'They  looked  unto  him, 
and  were  lightened." 

III.  And  now  I  invite  you  to  a  glorious  scene — Ciikist's 
KESUKRECTioN.  Come  you  here,  and  look  at  him  as  the  old 
serpent  bruises  his  heel ! 

*'  He  dies  I  the  friend  of  sinners  dies, 
And  Salem's  daughters  weep  around." 

lie  was  wrapped  in  his  grave-clothes  and  put  into  his  grave, 
and  there  he  slept  three  days  and  nights.  And  on  the  first 
day  of  the  week,  he,  who  could  not  be  holden  by  the  bands 
of  death,  and  whose  flesh  did  not  see  corruption,  neither  did 


LOOKING    UNTO   JESUS.  263 

his  soul  abide  in  Hades — he  arose  from  the  dead.  In  vain  the 
bands  that  swaddled  him ;  he  unfolded  them  by  himself,  and 
by  his  own  living  power  wrapped  them  in  perfect  order,  and 
laid  them  in  their  pb.ce.  In  vain  the  stone  and  the  seal ;  the 
angel  appeared  and  rolled  away  the  stone,  and  forth  the 
Saviour  came.  In  vain  the  guards  and  watchmen ;  for  in 
terror  they  fled  far  away,  and  he  rose  the  conqueror  over 
death — the  first-fruits  of  them  that  slept.  By  his  own  power 
and  might,  he  came  again  to  life.  I  see  among  my  congrega- 
tion not  a  few  wearing  the  black  weeds  of  sorrow^  You 
have  lost,  some  of  you,  the  dearest  of  your  earthly  relatives. 
There  are  others  here,  who,  I  doubt  not,  are  under  the  con- 
stant fear  of  death.  You  are  all  your  lifetime  subject  to 
bondage,  because  you  are  thinking  upon  the  groans  and  dying 
strife  which  fall  upon  men  w^hen  they  near  the  river  Jordan. 
Come,  come,  I  beseech  you,  ye  weeping  and  timid  spirits,  be- 
hold Jesus  Christ  risen !  For  remember  this  is  a  great  truth 
— "Now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become  the  first- 
fruits  of  them  that  slept."  And  the  verse  of  our  song  just 
embodies  it : — 

"  "What  though  our  inbred  sins  require 
Our  flesh  to  see  the  dust, 
Yet  as  the  Lord  our  Saviour  rose, 
So  all  his  followers  must." 

There,  widow,  weep  no  longer  for  your  husband,  if  he  died 
in  Jesus.  See  the  Master ;  he  is  risen  from  the  dead  ;  no  spec- 
ter is  he.  In  the  presence  of  his  disciples  he  eats  a  piece  of 
broiled  fish  and  part  of  a  honeycomb.  No  spirit  is  he ;  for 
he  saith,  "Handle  me  and  see;  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh  and 
blood  as  ye  see  me  have."  That  was  a  real  resurrection.  And 
learn,  then,  beloved,  when  you  weep,  to  restrain  your  sorrows ; 
for  thy  loved  ones  shall  live  again.  Not  only  shall  their  spir- 
its live,  but  their  bodies  too. 

"  Corruption,  earth,  and  worms, 
Do  but  refine  this  flesh ; 
At  the  archangel's  sounding  trump, 
Wo  put  it  on  afresh." 


264  LOOKING   UNTO   JESUS. 

Oh  !  think  not  that  the  worm  has  eaten  up  your  children,  your 
friends,  your  husband,  your  father,  your  aged  parents — true, 
the  worms  seem  to  have  devoured  them.  Oh!  what  is  the 
worm  after  all,  but  the  filter  through  which  our  poor  filthy 
flesh  must  go?  For  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  at  the  last 
trump,  we  shall  be  raised  incorruptible,  and  the  living  shall 
be  changed;  you  shall  see  the  eye  that  just  now  has  been 
closed,  and  you  shall  look  on  it  again ;  you  shall  again  grasp 
the  hand  that  just  now  fell  motionless  at  the  side ;  you  shall 
kiss  the  lips  that  just  now  were  clay-cold,  and  white,  and  you 
shall  hear  again  the  voice  that  is  silent  in  the  tomb.  They 
shall  live  again.  And  you  that  fear  death — why  fear  to  die  ? 
Jesus  died  before  you,  and  he  passed  through  the  iron  gates, 
and  as  he  passed  through  them  before  you,  he  will  come  and 
meet  you.     Jesus  who  lives  can 

"  Make  the  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are." 

Why  should  you  weep  ?  for  Jesus  rose  from  the  dead ;  so  shall 
you.  Be  of  good  cheer  and  confidence.  You  are  not  lost 
when  you  are  put  into  the  tomb ;  you  are  but  seed  sown  to 
ripen  against  the  eternal  harvest.  Your  spirit  mounts  to 
God  ;  your  body  slumbers  for  awhile  to  be  quickened  into 
eternal  life  ;  it  can  not  be  quickened  except  it  die ;  but  when 
it  dies  it  shall  receive  a  new  life ;  it  shall  not  be  destroyed. 
"They  looked  to  him,  aiid  were  lightened."  Oh!  this  is  a 
precious  thing  to  look  to — a  risen  Saviour.  I  know  of  nothing 
that  can  lift  our  spirits  higher  than  a  true  view  of  the  resur- 
rection of  Jesils  Christ  from  the  dead.  We  have  not  lost 
any  friends  then  ;  they  have  gone  before.  We  shall  not  die 
ourselves ;  we  shall  seem  to  die,  but  we  shall  begin  to  live ; 
for  it  is  written, 

"He  lives  to  die;  he  dies  to  live; 
He  lives  to  die  no  more." 

May  that  be  the  lot  of  each  one  of  us  ! 

ly.  And  with  the  greatest  possible  brevity,  I  invite  you  to 
LOOK  AT  Jesus  Ciikist  ascending  into  heaven.     After  forty 


LOOKING  UNTO   JESUS.  265 

days,  he  takes  his  disciples  to  the  hill,  and  while  he  discourses 
with  them,  on  a  sudden  he  mounts  upward ;  and  he  is  sepa- 
rated from  them,  and  a  cloud  receives  him  into  glory.  Per- 
haps I  may  be  allowed  a  little  poetical  license  if  I  try  to 
picture  that  which  occurred  after  he  ascended  into  the  clouds. 
The  angels  came  from  heaven — 

"  They  brought  his  chariot  from  oa  high 
To  bear  hira  to  his  throne ; 
Clapped  their  triumphant  wings  and  cried, 
The  glorious  work  is  done." 

I  doubt  not,  that  with  matchless  triumph  he  ascended  the  hill 
of  light  and  went  to  the  celestial  city,  and  when  he  neared 
the  portals  of  that  great  metropolis  of  the  universe,  the  angels 
shouted,  "Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates ;  and  be  ye  lift  up 
ye  everlasting  doors,"  and  the  bright  spirits,  from  burning 
battlements,  cried  out,  "  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory — who  ?" 
And  the  answer  came,  "  The  Lord  mighty  in  battle,  and  the 
Lord  of  Hosts ;  he  is  the  King  of  Glory."  And  then  both 
they  upon  the  walls,  and  they  who  walk  with  the  chariot  join 
the  song  once  more,  and  with  one  mighty  sea  of  music,  beat- 
ing its  melodious  waves  against  the  gates  of  heaven  and  forc- 
ing them  open,  the  strain  is  heard,  "  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye 
gates,  and  be  ye  lift  up  ye  everlasting  doors,  that  the  King 
of  Glory  may  come  in" — and  in  he  went.  And  at  his  feet  the 
angelic  hosts  all  cast  their  crowns,  and  forth  came  the  blood 
washed  and  met  him,  not  casting  roses  at  his  feet,  as  we  do  at 
the  feet  of  conquerors  in  our  streets,  but  casting  immortal 
flowers,  imperishable  wreaths  of  honor  that  never  can  de- 
cay ;  while  again,  again,  again,  the  heavens  did  ring  with  tliis 
melody,  "Unto  him  that  hath  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from 
our  sins  in  his  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto 
God  and  his  Father — unto  him  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever." 
And  all  the  saints  and  all  the  angels  said,  "  Amen."  Now 
look  ye  here.  Christian,  here  is  your  comfort ;  Jesus  Christ 
won  the  victory,  and  he  ascended  to  his  throne  of  glory. 
You  arc  fighting  to-day,  and  wrestling  with  spiritual  enemies, 
not  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  with  principalities  and  powers ; 

12 


266  LOOKING   UNTO   JESUS. 

you  are  at  war  to-day,  and  mayhap  the  enemy  has  thrust  sore 
at  you,  and  you  have  been  ready  to  fall ;  it  is  a  marvel  to  you 
that  you  have  not  turned  your  back  in  the  day  of  battle,  for 
you  have  often  feared  lest  you  should  be  made  to  fly  like  a 
coward  from  the  field.  But  tremble  not,  your  Master  was 
more  than  conqueror,  and  so  shall  you  be.  The  day  is  coming 
when  with  splendor  less  than  liis,  but  yet  the  same  in  its  meas- 
ure, you  too  shall  pass  the  gates  of  bliss ;  when  you  are  dying, 
angels  shall  meet  you  in  the  mid-stream,  and  when  your  blood 
is  cooling  with  the  cold  current,  then  sliall  your  heart  be 
warming  with  another  stream,  a  stream  of  light  and  heat  from 
the  great  fountain  of  all  joy,  and  you  shall  stand  on  the  other 
side  of  Jordan,  and  angels  shall  meet  you  clothed  in  their  im- 
maculate garments;  they  shall  attend  you  up  the  hill  of  light, 
and  they  shall  chant  the  praise  of  Jesus,  and  hail  you  as  an- 
other trophy  of  his  power.  And  when  you  enter  the  gates 
of  heaven,  you  shall  be  met  by  Christ  your  Master,  who 
will  say  to  you — *'  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter 
thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  Then  will  you  feel  that  you 
are  sharing  in  his  victoi-y,  as  once  you  shared  in  his  struggles 
and  his  war.  Fight  on,  Christian,  your  glorious  Captain  has 
won  a  great  victory,  and  has  secured  for  you  in  one  and  the 
same  victory,  a  standard  that  never  yet  was  stained  with  de- 
feat, though  often  dipped  in  the  blood  of  the  slain. 

V.  And  now  once  more,  "  Look  unto  him,  and  be  light- 
ened." See  there,  he  sits  in  heaven ;  he  has  led  captivity  cap- 
tive, and  now  sits  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  for  ever  making 
intercession  for  us.  Can  your  faith  picture  him  to-day  ?  Like 
a  great  high  priest  of  old,  he  stands  with  outstretched  arms : 
there  is  majesty  in  his  mien,  for  he  is  no  mean,  cringing  sup- 
pliant. He  does  not  beat  his  breast,  nor  cast  his  eyes  on  the 
ground,  but  with  authority  he  pleads,  enthroned  in  glory  now. 
There  on  his  head  is  the  bright,  shining  miter  of  his  priesthood, 
and  look  you,  on  his  breast  are  glittering  the  precious  stones 
whereon  the  names  of  his  elect  are  everlastingly  engraven ; 
hear  him  as  he  pleads,. hear  you  not  what  it  is? — is  that  your 
prayer  that  he  is  mentioning  before  the  throne  ?  The  prayer 
that  this  morning  you  offered  ere  you  came  to  the  house  of 


LOOKING   U:NT0   JESUS.  267 

God,  Christ  is  now  offering  before  his  Father's  throne.  The 
vow  which  just  now  you  uttered  when  you  said,  "  Have  pity 
and  have  mercy" — he  is  now  uttering  there.  He  is  the  Altar 
and  the  Priest,  and  with  his  own  sacrifice  he  perfumes  our 
prayers.  And  yet,  mayhap  you  have  been  at  prayer  many  a 
day,  and  had  no  answer;  poor,  weeping  suppliant,  thou  liast 
sought  the  Lord  and  he  hath  not  heard  thee,  or  at  least  not 
answered  thee  to  thy  soul's  delight ;  thou  hast  cried  unto  him, 
but  the  heavens  have  been  as  brass,  and  he  hath  shut  out  thy 
prayer ;  thou  art  full  of  darkness  and  lieaviness  on  account  of 
this :  "Look  to  him,  and  be  lightened."  If  thou  dost  not  suc- 
ceed, he  will;  if  thy  intercession  be  unnoticed,  his  can  not  be 
passed  away ;  if  thy  prayers  can  be  like  w^ater  spilt  on  a  rock 
wliich  can  not  be  gathered  uj),  yet  his  prayers  are  not  like 
that ;  he  is  God's  Son,  he  pleads  and  must  prevail ;  God  can 
not  refuse  his  own  Son  what  he  now  asks,  he  who  once  bought 
mercies  with  his  blood.  Oh  !  be  of  good  cheer,  continue  still 
thy  supplication.     "Look  unto  him,  and  be  lightened." 

VI.  In  the  last  place,  there  are  some  of  you  here,  weary 
with  this  world's  din  and  clamor,  and  with  this  world's  in- 
iquity and  vice.  You  have  been  striving  all  your  life  long,  to 
put  an  end  to  the  reign  of  sin,  and  it  seems  as  if  your  efforts 
have  been  fruitless;  the  pillars  of  hell  stand  as  last  as  ever, 
.  nd  the  black  palace  of  evil  is  not  laid  in  ruins;  you  have 
brought  against  it  all  the  battering  rams  of  prayer,  and  all  the 
iniglit  of  God,  you  have  thought — and  yet  the  world  still 
sins,  its  rivers  still  roll  with  blood,  its  plains  are  still  defiled 
witii  the  lascivious  dance,  and  its  ear  is  still  polluted  with  the 
filthy  song  and  profane  oath.  God  is  not  honored  ;  man  is 
still  vile ;  and  perhaps  you  are  saying,  "  It  is  vain  for  us  to 
fight  on,  we  have  undertaken  a  task  which  can  not  be  accom- 
plished ;  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  never  can  become  the 
kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ."  But,  Christian, 
"Look  unto  him,  and  be  lightened."  Lo !  he  cometh,  he 
cometh,  l)e  cometh  quickly ;  and  what  we  can  not  do  in  six 
thousand  years,  he  can  do  in  an  instant.  Lo !  he  comes,  he 
comes  to  reign ;  we  mjiy  try  to  build  his  throne,  but  we  shall 
not  accomplish  it.     But  when  lie  comes,  he  shall  build  his 


268  LOOKING   UNTO    JESUS. 

throne  himself,  on  solid  pillars  of  ligbt,  and  sit  and  judge  in 
Jerusalem,  amidst  his  saints,  gloriously.  Perhaps  to-day,  the 
hour  we  are  assembled,  Christ  may  come — "For  of  that  day 
and  hour  knoweth  no  man ;  no,  not  the  angels  in  heaven." 
Christ  Jesus  may,  while  I  yet  speak,  appear  in  the  clouds  of 
glory.  We  have  no  reason  to  be  guessing  at  the  time  of  his 
appearing ;  he  will  come  as  the  thief  in  the  night ;  and  wheth- 
er it  shall  be  at  cock-crowing,  or  broad  day,  or  at  midnight, 
we  are  not  allowed  to  guess ;  it  is  left  entirely  in  the  dark, 
and  vain  are  the  prophecies  of  men,  vain  your  "  Apocalyptic 
Sketches,"  or  aught  of  that.  JSTo  man  knoweth  any  thing  of 
it,  except  that  it  is  certain  he  will  come;  but  when  he  comes, 
no  spirit  in  heaven  or  on  earth  should  pretend  to  know.  Oh ! 
it  is  my  joyous  hope  that  he  may  come  whilst  yet  I  live. 
Perhaps  there  may  be  some  of  us  here  who  shall  be  alive,  and 
remain  at  the  cogiing  of  the  Son  of  man.  Oh,  glorious  hope  ! 
we  shall  have  to  sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be  changed.  He  may 
come  now,  and  we  that  are  alive  and  remain  shall  be  caught 
up  together  with  the  Lord  in  the  air,  and  so  shall  be  for  ever 
with  him.  But  if  you  die.  Christian,  this  is  your  hope.  "  I  will 
come  again,  and  receive  you  to  myself,  that  where  I  am,  there 
ye  may  be  also."  And  this  is  to  be  your  duty,  "  Watch, 
therefore,  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not,  the  Son  of  man 
cometh."  Oh,  will  I  not  work  on,  for  Christ  is  at  the  door ! 
Oh  !  I  will  not  give  up  toiling  never  so  hard,  for  my  Master 
cometh,  and  his  reward  is  with  him,  and  his  work  before  him, 
giving  unto  every  man  according  as  his  work  shall  be.  Oh, 
I  will  not  lie  down  in  despair,  for  the  trump  is  sounding  now. 
Methinks  I  hear  the  trampling  of  the  conquering  legion  ;  the 
last  of  God's  mighty  heroes  are  even  now,  perhaps,  born  into 
the  world.  The  hour  of  this  revival  is  the  hour  of  turning  to 
the  battle ;  thick  has  been  the  fight,  and'  hot  and  furious  the 
struggle,  but  the  trump  of  the  conqueror  is  beginning  to 
sound,  the  angel  is  lifting  it  now  to  his  lips.  The  first  blast 
has  been  heard  across  the  sea,  and  we  shall  hear  it  yet  again  ; 
or  if  we  hear  it  not  in  these  our  days,  yet  still  it  is  our  hope. 
He  comes,  he  comes,  and  every  eye  shall  see  him,  and  they 
that  have  crucified  him  shall  weep  and  wail  before  him,  but 


LOOKING   UNTO   JESUS.  269 

the  righteous  shall  rejoice,  and  shall  magnify  him  exceedingly. 
"  They  looked  unto  him,  and  were  lightened." 

I  remember  I  concluded  preaching  at  Exeter  Hall  with  these 
three  words,  "  Jesus,  Jesus,  Jesus !"  and  I  think  I  will  con- 
clude my  sermon  of  this  morning  with  the  same  words,  but 
not  till  I  have  spoken  to  one  poor,  forlorn  soul  who  is  stand- 
ing over  there,  wondering  whether  there  is  mercy  for  him. 
He  says,  "  It  is  well  enough,  sir,  to  say,  *  Look  to  Jesus  ;'  but 
suppose  you  can  not  look?  If  your  eye  is  blind — what  then  ?" 
Oh  !  ray  poor  brother,  turn  your  restless  eyeballs  to  the  cross, 
and  that  light  which  gives  light  to  them  that  see,  shall  give 
eyesight  to  them  that  are  blind.  Oh !  if  thou  canst  not  be- 
lieve this  morning,  look  and  consider,  and  weigh  the  matter, 
and  in  w^eighing  and  reflecting  thou  shalt  be  helped  to  believe. 
He  asks  nothing  of  thee ;  be  bids  thee  now  believe  that  he 
died  for  thee.  If  to-day  thou  feelest  thyself  a  lost,  guilty  sin- 
ner, all  he  asks  is  that  thou  w^ouldst  believe  on  him ;  that  is  to 
say,  trust  him,  confide  in  him.  Is  it  not  little  he  asks?  And 
yet  it  is  more  than  any  of  us  are  prepared  to  give,  except  the 
Spirit  hath  made  us  willing.  Come,  cast  yourselves  upon 
him ;  fall  flat  on  his  promise ;  sink  or  swim,  confide  in  him,  and 
you  can  not  guess  the  joy  that  you  shall  feel  in  that  one  instant 
that  you  believe  on  him.  Were  there  not  some  of  you  im- 
pressed last  Sabbath  day,  and  you  have  been  anxious  all  the 
week  ?  Oh  !  I  hope  I  have  brought  a  good  message  to  you 
this  morning  for  your  comfort.  *'Look  unto  me  and  be  yo 
saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth,"  saith  Christ,  "  for  I  am  God, 
and  beside  rae  there  is  none  else."  Look  ye  now,  and  looking 
yc  shall  live.  May  every  blessing  rest  upon  you,  and  may 
each  go  away  to  think  of  that  one  person  whom  we  love,  even 
Jesus — Jesus — Jesus ! 


SERMON  XYII. 

SATAN'S     BANQUET. 

"  The  governor  of  the  feast  called  the  bridegroom,  and  saith  unto  him, 
every  man  at  the  beginning  doth  set  forth  good  wine ;  and  when  men  have 
well  drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse ;  but  thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  un- 
tU  now."— John,  ii.  9,  10. 

The  governor  of  the  feast  said  more  than  he  intended  to 
say,  or  rather,  tliere  is  more  truth  in  what  he  said  than  he 
himself  imagined.  This  is  the  established  rule  all  the  world 
over  :  "  the  good  wine  first,  and  when  men  have  well  drunk, 
then  that  which  is  worse."  It  is  the  rule  with  men  ;  and  have 
not  hundreds  of  disappointed  hearts  bewailed  it  ?  Friendship 
first — the  oily  tongue,  the  words  softer  than  butter,  and  after- 
wards the  drawn  sword.  Ahithophel  first  presents  the  lordly 
dish  of  love  and  kindness  to  David,  then  afterwards  that  which 
is  worse,  for  he  forsakes  his  master,  and  becomes  the  counselor 
of  his  rebel  son.  Judas  presents  first  of  all  the  dish  of  fair 
speech  and  of  kindness ;  the  Saviour  partook  thereof,  he  walked 
to  the  house  of  God  in  company  with  him,  and  took  sweet 
counsel  with  him  ;  but  afterwards  there  came  the  dregs  of  the 
wine — "  He  that  eateth  bread  with  me  hath  lifted  up  his  heel 
against  me."  Judas  the  thief  betrayed  his  Master,  bringing 
forth  afterwards  "  that  which  is  worse."  Ye  have  found  it  so 
with  many  whom  ye  thought  your  friends.  In  the  heydey  of 
prosperity,  when  the  sun  was  shining,  and  the  birds  were  sing- 
ing, and  all  was  fair  and  gay  and  cheerful  with  you,  they  brought 
forth  the  good  wine ;  but  there  came  a  chilhng  frost,  and 
nipped  your  flowers,  and  the  leaves  fell  from  the  trees,  and 
your  streams  were  frosted  with  the  ice,  and  then  they  brought 
forth  that  which  is  worse — they  forsook  you  and  fled ;  they 
left  you  in  your  hour  of  peril,  and  taught  you  that  great  truth, 


SATAN'S    BANQUET.  271 

that  "  cursed  is  he  that  trustelh  in  man,  and  maketh  flesh  his 
arm."  And  this  is  the  way  all  the  world  over — I  say  it  once 
again — not  merely  with  men,  but  with  nature  too. 

"  Alas,  for  us,  if  thou  'wert  all, 
And  naught  beyond,  0  earth ;" 

for  doth  not  this  world  serve  us  just  the  same  ?  In  our  youth 
it  brings  forth  the  best  wine ;  then  we  have  the  sparkling  eye, 
and  the  ear  attuned  to  music ;  then  the  blood  flows  swiftly 
through  the  veins  and  the  pulse  beats  joyously ;  but  wait  a 
little  and  there  shall  come  forth  afterwards  tliat  which  is  worse, 
for  the  keepers  of  the  house  shall  tremble,  and  the  strong  men 
shall  bow  themselves ;  the  grinders  shall  fail  because  they  are 
few,  they  that  look  out  of  the  windows  shall  be  darkened,  all 
the  daughters  of  music  shall  be  brought  low ;  then  shall  the 
strong  man  totter,  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a  burden,  and  de- 
sire shall  fail,  the  mourners  shall  go  about  the  streets.  First 
there  is  the  flowing  cup  of  youth,  and  afterwards  the  stagnant 
waters  of  old  age,  unless  God  shall  cast  into  those  dregs  a 
fresh  flood  of  his  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercy,  so  that 
'once  ngain,  as  it  always  happeneth  to  the  Christian,  the  cup 
sliall  run  over,  and  again  sparkle  with  delight.  O  Christian, 
trust  not  thou  in  men  ;  rely  not  thou  upon  the  things  of  this 
present  time,  for  this  is  evermore  the  rule  with  men  and  with 
the  world — "  the  good  wine  first,  and  when  ye  have  well 
drunken,  then  that  which  is  worse." 

This  morning,  however,  I  am  about  to  introduce  you  to  two 
houses  of  feasting.  First,  I  shall  bid  you  look  within  the  doors 
of  the  devil's  houses  and  you  will  find  he  is  ti  ue  to  this  rule  ; 
he  brings  forth  first  the  good  wine,  and  when  men  have  well 
dnuik,  and  their  brains  are  muddled  therewith,  then  he  bring- 
eth  fortli  that  which  is  worse.  Having  bidden  you  look  there 
and  tremble,  and  take  heed  to  the  warning,  I  shall  then  attempt 
to  enter  with  you  into  the  banqueting/  house  of  our  beloved 
Lord  and  Master  Jesus  Christy  and  of  him  we  shall  be  able 
to  say,  as  the  governor  of  the  feast  said  to  the  bridegroom, 
"  Thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now  ;"  thy  feasts  grow 
better,  and  not  worse  :  thy  wines  grow  richer,  thy  viands  are 


272  SATAN'S   BANQUET. 

daintier  far,  and  thy  gifts  more  precious  than  before.  *'  Thou 
hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now." 

I.  First,  we  are  to  take  a  warning  glance  at  the  house  op 
FEASTING  WHICH  Satan  HATH  BuiLDED :  for  as  wisdoHi  hath 
build ed  her  house,  and  hewn  out  her  seven  pillars,  so  hath  folly- 
its  temple  and  its  tavern  of  feasting,  into  which  it  continually 
tempts  the  unwary.  Look  within  the  banqueting  house,  and 
I  will  show  you  four  tables  and  the  guests  that  sit  thereat ; 
and  as  you  look  at  those  tables  you  shall  see  the  courses  brought 
in.  You  shall  see  the  wine  cups  brought,  and  you  shall  see 
them  vanish  one  after  another,  and  you  shall  mark  that  the 
rule  holds  good  at  all  four  tables — first  the  good  wine,  and 
afterwards  that  which  is  worse — yea,  I  shall  go  further — after- 
wards, that  which  is  worst  of  all. 

1.  At  the  first  table  to  which  I  shall  invite  your  attention, 
though  I  beseech  you  never  to  sit  dowm  and  drink  thereat,  sit 
the  PKOFLiGATE.  The  table  of  the  j^rofligate  is  a  gay  table  ;  it  is 
covered  over  with  a  gaudy  crimson,  and  all  the  vessels  upon  it 
look  exceedingly  bright  and  glistening.  Many  there  be  that  sit 
thereat ;  but  they  know  not  that  they  are  the  guests  of  hell,  and 
that  the  end  of  all  the  feast  shall  be  in  the  depths  of  perdition. 
See  ye  now  the  great  governor  of  the  feast,  as  he  comes  in  ? 
He  has  a  bland  smile  upon  his  face  ;  his  garments  are  not 
black,  but  he  is  girded  with  a  robe  of  many  colors ;  he  hath  a 
honied  word  on  his  lip,  and  a  tempting  witchery  in  the  sparkle 
of  his  eye.  He  brings  in  the  cup,  and  says,  "  Hey,  young 
man,  drink  hereat,  it  sparkleth  in  the  cup,  it  moveth  itself 
aright.  Do  you  see  it  ?  It  is  the  wine  cup  of  pleasure.'''' 
This  is  the  first  cup  at  the  banqueting  house  of  Satan.  The 
young  man  takes  it,  and  sips  the  liquor.  At  first  it  is  a  cau- 
tious sip  ;  it  is  but  a  little  he  will  take,  and  then  he  wull  restrain 
himself.  He  does  not  intend  to  indulge  much  in  lust,  he  means 
not  to  plunge  headlong  into  perdition.  There  is  a  flower  there 
on  the  edge  of  that  clifiT:  he  will  reach  forward  a  little  and 
pluck  it,  but  it  is  not  his  intention  to  dash  himself  from  that 
beetling  crag  and  destroy  himself  Not  he  !  He  thinks  it 
easy  to  put  away  the  cup  when  he  has  tested  its  flavor  !  He 
has  no  design  to  abandon  himself  to  its  intoxication.     He 


SATAN'S   BANQUET.  273 

takes  a  shallow  draught.  But  O  how  sweet  it  is !  How  it 
makes  his  blood  tingle  within  him.  What  a  fool  I  was,  not  to 
have  tasted  this  before  !  he  thinks.  Was  ever  joy  like  this  ? 
Could  it  be  thought  that  bodies  could  be  capable  of  such  ec- 
stasy as  this  ?  He  drinks  again  ;  this  time  he  takes  a  deeper 
draught,  and  the  wine  is  hot  in  his  veins.  Oh  !  how  blest  is 
he  !  What  would  he  not  say  now  in  the  praise  of  Bacchup, 
or  Yenus,  or  whatever  shape  Beelzebub  chooses  to  assume  ? 
He  •becomes  a  very  orator  in  praise  of  sin.  It  is  fair,  it  is 
pleasant — the  deep  damnation  of  lust  appeareth  as  joyous  as 
the  transports  of  heaven.  He  drinks,  he  drinks,  he  drinks 
again,  till  his  brain  begins  to  reel  with  the  intoxication  of  his 
sinful  delight.  This  is  the  first  course.  Drink,  O  ye  drunk- 
ards of  Ephraim,  and  bind  the  crown  of  pride  about  your 
head,  and  call  us  fools  because  we  put  your  cu])  from  us ;  drink 
with  the  harlot  and  sup  with  the  lustful ;  ye  may  think  your- 
selves wise  for  so  doing,  but  we  know  that  after  these  things 
there  cometh  something  worse,  for  your  vine  is  the  vine  of 
Sodom,  and  of  the  fields  of  Gomorrah  ;  your  grapes  are  grapes 
of  gall,  the  clusters  are  bitter ;  your  wine  is  the  poison  of 
dragons  and  the  cruel  venom  of  asps. 

Now  with  a  leer  upon  his  brow,  the  subtle  governor  of  the 
feast  riseth  from  his  seat.  His  victim  has  had  enough  of  the 
best  wine.  He  takes  away  that  cup,  and  he  brings  in  another, 
not  quite  so  sparkling.  Look  into  the  liquor;  it  is  not  beaded 
over  with  sparkling  bubbles  of  rapture  ;  it  is  all  flat,  and  dull 
and  insipid  ;  it  is  called  the  cup  of  satiety.  The  man  has  had 
enough  of  pleasure,  and  like  a  dog  he  vomits,  though  hke  a 
dog  he  will  return  to  his  vomit  yet  again.  Who  hath  woe  ? 
Who  hath  redness  of  eyes  ?  They  that  tarry  long  at  the  wine. 
I  am  now  speaking  figuratively  of  wine,  as  well  as  literally. 
The  wine  of  Inst  bringeth  the  same  redness  of  the  eyes ;  the 
profligate  soon  discovers  that  all  the  rounds  of  pleasure  end  in 
satiety.  "  What,"  says  he,  "  what  more  can  I  do  ?  There ! 
I  have  committed  every  wickedness  that  cnn  be  imagined,  and 
I  have  drained  every  cup  of  pleasure.  Give  me  something 
fresh  !  I  have  tried  the  theaters  all  round  :  there  !  I  do  n't 
care  so  much  as  one  single  iarthing  for  them  all.     I  have  gone 

12* 


274 

to  every  kind  of  pleasure  that  I  can  conceive.  It  is  all  over. 
Gayety  itself  grows  flat  and  dull.  What  am  I  to  do  ?"  And 
this  is  the  devil's  second  course — the  course  of  satiety — a  fitful 
drowsiness,  the  result  of  the  previous  excess.  Thousands  there 
are  who  are  drinking  of  the  tasteless  cup  of  satiety  every  day, 
and  some  novel  invention  whereby  they  may  kill  time,  some 
new  discovery  whereby  they  may  give  a  fresh  vent  to  their 
iniquity  would  be  a  w^onderful  thing  to  them ;  and  if  some  man 
should  rise  up  who  could  find  out  for  them  some  new  fashion 
of  wickedness,  some  deeper  depths  in  the  deeps  of  the  neth- 
ermost hell  of  lasciviousness,  they  would  bless  his  name  for 
having  given  them  something  fresh  to  excite  them.  That  is 
the  devil's  second  course.  And  do  you  see  them  partaking  of 
it  ?  There  are  some  of  you  that  are  having  a  deep  draught 
of  it  this  morning.  You  are  the  jaded  horses  of  the  fiend  of 
lust,  the  disappointed  followers  of  the  w^ill-o'-the-wisp  of  pleas- 
ure. God  knows,  if  you  w^ere  to  speak  your  heart  out  you 
would  be  obliged  to  say,  "  There  !  I  have  tried  pleasure,  and 
I  do  not  find  it  pleasure ;  I  have  gone  the  round,  and  I  am 
just  like  the  blind  horse  at  the  mill,  I  have  to  go  round  again. 
I  am  spell-bound  to  the  sin,  but  I  can  not  take  delight  in  it 
now  as  I  once  did,  for  all  the  glory  of  it  is  as  a  fading  flower, 
and  as  the  hasty  fruit  before  the  summer. 

Awhile  the  feaster  remains  in  the  putrid  sea  of  his  infatua- 
tion, but  another  scene  is  opening.  The  governor  of  the  feast 
commandeth  another  liquor  to  be  broached.  This  time  the 
fiend  bears  a  black  goblet,  and  he  presents  it  with  eyes  full 
of  hell-fire,  flashing  with  fierce  damnation.  "  Drink  of  that, 
sir,"  says  he,  and  the  man  sips  it  and  starts  back  and  shrieks, 
"  O  God  !  that  ever  I  must  come  to  this !"  You  must  drink, 
sir  !  He  that  quaffs  the  first  cup,  must  drink  the  second,  and 
the  third.  Drink,  though  it  be  like  fire  down  your  throat ! 
Drink  it,  though, it  be  as  the  lava  of  Etna  in  your  bowels! 
Drink  !  you  must  drink  !  He  that  sins  must  suffer ;  he  that 
is  a  profligate  in  his  youth  must  have  rottenness  in  his  bones, 
and  disease  within  his  loins.  He  who  rebels  against  the  laws 
of  God,  must  reap  the  harvest  in  his  own  body  here.  Oh ! 
there  are  some  dreadful  things  that  I  might  tell  you  of  this 


SATAN'S   BANQUET.  276 

third  course.  Satan's  liouse  has  a  front  chamber  full  of  every- 
thing that  is  enticing  to  the  eye  and  bewitching  to  the  sensual 
taste ;  but  there  is  a  back  chamber,  and  no  one  knoweth,  no 
one  hath  seen  the  whole  of  its  horrors.  There  is  a  secret 
chamber,  where  he  shovels  out  the  creiitures  whom  he  hath 
himself  destroyed — a  chamber,  beneath  wliosc  floor  is  the 
blazing  of  hell,  and  above  whose  boards  the  heat  of  that  hor- 
rible pit  is  felt.  It  may  be  a  physician's  place  rather  than 
mine,  to  tell  of  the  horrors  that  some  have  to  suffer  as  the  re- 
sult of  their  iniquity.  I  leave  that ;  but  let  me  tell  the  profli- 
gate spendthrift  that  the  poverty  which  he  will  endure  is  the 
result  of  his  sin  of  extravagant  spendthriftcy ;  let  him  know, 
also,  that  the  remorse  of  conscience  that  will  overtake  him  is 
not  an  accidental  thing  that  drops  by  chance  from  heaven — it 
is  the  result  of  his  own  iniquity;  for,  depend  upon  it,  men  and 
brethren,  sin  carries  an  infant  misery  in  its  bowels,  and  sooner 
or  later  it  must  be  delivered  of  its  terrible  child.  If  we  sow 
the  seed  we  must  reap  the  harvest.  Thus  the  law  of  hell's 
house  stands — "  first,  the  good  wine,  then,  afterwards,  that 
which  is  worse." 

The  last  course  remains  to  be  presented.  And  now,  ye 
strong  men  who  mock  at  the  warning,  which  I  would  fain  de- 
liver to  you  with  a  brother's  voice  and  with  an  affectionate 
heart,  though  with  rough  language  ;  come  ye  here,  and  drink 
of  this  last  cup.  The  sinner  has  at  the  end  brought  himself 
to  the  grave.  His  hopes  and  joys  were  like  gold  put  into  a 
bag  full  of  holes,  and  they  have  all  vanished — vanished  for 
ever ;  and  now  he  has  come  to  the  last,  his  sins  haunt  him,  his 
transgressions  perplex  him  ;  he  is  taken  like  a  bull  in  a  net, 
and  how  shall  he  escape  ?  He  dies,  and  descends  from  disease 
to  damnation.  Shall  mortal  language  attempt  to  tell  you  the 
hoiTors  of  that  last  tremendous  cup  of  which  the  profligate 
must  drink,  and  drink  for  ever  ?  Look  at  it :  ye  can  not  see 
its  depths,  but  cast  an  eye  upon  its  seething  surface ;  I  hear  the 
noise  of  rusliing  to  and  fro,  and  a  sound  as  of  gnashing  of  teeth 
and  the  waiHng  of  despairing  souls.  I  look  into  that  cup,  and 
I  hear  a  voice  coming  up  from  its  depths — "  These  shall  go 
away  into  everlasting  punishment  j"  for  "  Tophet  is  prepared 


276  SATAN'S    BANQUET. 

of  old,  the  pile  thereof  is  wood  and  much  smoke,  the  breath 
of  the  Lord,  like  a  stream  of  brimstone,  shall  kindle  it."  And 
what  say  ye  to  this  last  course  of  Satan  ?  "  Who  among  us 
sliall  dwell  with  the  devouring  fire  ?  Who  among  us  shall 
dwell  with  everlasting  burnings  ?"  Profligate  !  I  beseech  thee, 
in  the  name  of  God,  start  from  this  table  !  Oh,  be  not  so  care- 
less at  thy  cups ;  be  not  so  asleep,  secure  in  the  peace  which 
thou  now  enjoyest !  Man  !  death  is  at  the  door,  and  at  his 
heels  is  swift  destruction.  As  for  you,  who  as  yet  have  been  re- 
strained by  a  careful  ikther  and  the  watchfulness  of  an  anxious 
mother,  I  beseech  you  shun  the  house  of  sin  and  folly.  Let 
the  wise  man's  words  be  written  on  thine  heart,  and  be  thou 
mindful  of  them  in  the  hour  of  temptation—"  Remove  thy 
way  far  from  her,  and  come  not  nigh  the  door  of  her  house  : 
for  the  lips  of  a  strange  woman  drop  as  an  honeycomb,  and 
her  mouth  is  smoother  than  oil :  but  her  end  is  bitter  as  worm- 
wood, sharp  as  a  two-edged  sword.  Her  feet  go  down  to 
death  ;  her  steps  take  hold  on  hell." 

IL  Do  ye  see  that  other  table  yonder  in  the  middle  of  the 
palace  ?  Ah  !  good  easy  souls !  Many  of  you  had  thought 
that  you  never  went  to  the  feast  of  hell  at  all ;  but  there  is  a 
table  for  you  too  ;  it  is  covered  over  with  a  fair  white  cloth, 
and  all  the  vessels  upon  the  table  are  most  clean  and  comely. 
The  wine  looks  not  like  the  wine  of  Gomorrah,  it  moveth 
aiiglit,  like  the  wine  from  the  grapes  of  Eshcol ;  it  seems  to 
have  no  intoxication  in  it ;  it  is  like  the  ancient  wine  which 
tliey  pressed  from  the  gra^^e  into  the  cup,  having  in  if  no 
deadly  poison.  Do  ye  see  the  men  who  sit  ;it  this  table  ? 
How  self  contented  they  are !  Ask  the  white  fiends  who  wait 
at  it,  and  they  will  tell  you,  "  This  is  the  table  of  the  self- 
righteous  :  the  Pharisee  sits  there.  You  may  know  him  ;  he 
has  his  phylactery  between  his  eyes ;  the  hem  of  his  garment 
is  exceeding  broad,  lie  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  best  profes- 
sors. "Ah  !"  saith  Satan,  as  he  draws  the  curtain  and  shuts 
off  the  table  where  the  profligates  are  carousing,  "  be  quiet ; 
do  nH  make  too  much  noise,  lest  these  sanctimonious  hypocrites 
should  guess  what  company  they  are  in.  Those  self  righteous 
people  are  ray  guest?*  quite  as  much  as  you,  and  I  have  them 


SATAN'S   BANQUET.  217 

quite  as  safely."  So  Satan,  like  an  angel  of  light,  brings  forth 
a  gilded  goblet,  looking  like  the  chalice  of  the  table  of  com- 
munion. And  what  wine  is  that  ?  It  seems  to  be  the  very 
wine  of  the  sacred  Eucharist ;  it  is  called  the  wine  of  self- 
satisfaction,  and  around  the  brim  you  may  see  the  bubbles  of 
pride.  Look  at  the  swelling  froth  upon  the  bowl — "  God,  I 
thank  thee,xthat  I  am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  un- 
just, adulterers,  or  even  as  this  publican."  You  know  that 
cup,  my  self-deceiving  hearers ;  oh  that  ye  knew  the  deadly 
hemlock  which  is  mixed  therein.  "Sin  as  other  men  do? 
Not  you  ;  not  at  all.  You  are  not  going  to  submit  yourself  ^ 
to  the  righteousness  of  Christ :  what  need  you  ?  You  are  as 
good  as  your  neighbors  ;  if  you  are  not  saved,  you  ought  to 
be,  you  think.  Do  n't  you  pay  everybody  twenty-shillings  in 
the  pound  ?  Did  you  ever  rob  anybody  in  your  life  ?  You 
do  your  neighbors  a  good  turn  ;  you  are  as  good  as  other 
people."  Very  good  !  That  is  the  first  cup  the  devil  gives, 
and  the  good  wine  makes  you  swell  with  self-important  dig- 
nity, as  its  fumes  enter  your  heart  and  puff  it  up  witii  an  ac- 
cursed pride.  Yes  !  I  see  you  sitting  in  the  room  so  cleanly 
swept  and  so  neatly  garnished,  and  I  see  the  crowds  of  your 
admirers  standing  around  the  table,  even  many  of  God's  own 
children,  who  say,  "  Oh  that  I  were  half  so  good  as  he." 
"While  the  very  humility  of  the  righteous  provides  you  with 
provender  for  your  pride.  Wait  awhile,  thou  unctuous  hypo- 
crite, w^iit  awhile,  for  there  is  a  second  course  to  come.  Satan 
looks  with  quite  as  self  satisfied  an  air  upon  his  guests  this 
time  as  he  did  upon  the  troop  of  rioters.  "  Ah  !"  says  he,  "  I 
cheated  those  gay  fellows  with  the  cup  of  pleasure — I  gave 
them,  afterwards,  the  dull  cup  of  satiety,  and  I  have  cheated 
you,  too ;  you  think  yourselves  all  right,  but  I  have  deceived 
you  twice,  I  have  befooled  you  indeed."  So  ho  brings  in  a 
cup  which,  sometimes,  he  himself  doth  not  like  to  serve.  It 
is  called  the  cup  of  discontent  and  unquietness  of  mind,  and 
many  there  be  that  have  to  drink  this  after  all  their  self-satisfac- 
tion. Do  you  not  find,  you  that  are  very  good  in  your  own 
esteem,  but  have  no  interest  in  Christ,  that  when  you  sit  alone 
and  begin  to  turn  over  yoin*  accounts  for  eternity,  that  they 


2T8  SATAN'S    BANQUET. 

do  not  square,  somehow — that  you  can  not  strike  the  balance 
exactly  to  your  own  side  after  all,  as  you  thought  you  could  ? 
Have  not  you  sometimes  found,  that  when  you  thought  you 
were  standing  on  a  rock,  there  was  a  quivering  beneath  your 
feet  ?     You  heard  the  Christian  sing  boldly — 

"  Bold  shall  I  stand  in  that  great  day, 
For  who  aught  to  my  charge  shall  lay  ? 
While,  through  thy  blood,  absolved  I  am 

•  From  sin's  tremendous  curse  and  shame." 

And  you  have  said,  "  Well,  I  can  not  sing  that.  I  have  been 
as  good  a  churchman  as  ever  lived,  I  never  missed  going 
to  my  church  all  these  years,  but  I  can  not  say  I  have  a  solid 
confidence."  You  had  once  a  hope  of  self-satisfaction;  but 
now  the  second  course  has  come  in,  and  you  are  not  quite 
so  contented.  "  Well,"  says  another,  "  I  have  been  to  my 
church,  and  I  have  been  baptized,  and  made  a  profession  of 
religion,  though  I  was  never  brought  to  know  the  Lord  in 
sinceiity  and  in  truth,  and  I  once  thought  it  was  all  well  with 
me,  but  I  want  a  something  which  I  can  not  find."  Now 
comes  a  shaking  in  the  heart.  It  is  not  quite  so  delightful  as 
one  supposed,  to  build  on  one's  own  righteousness.  Ah !  that 
is  the  second  course.  Wait  awhile,  and  mayhap  in  this  world, 
but  certainly  in  the  hour  of  death,  the  devil  will  bring  in  the 
third  cup  of  dismay  at  the  discovery  of  your  lost  condition. 
How  many  a  man,  who  has  been  self-righteous  all  his  life,  has, 
at  the  last,  discovered  that  the  thing  whereon  he  had  placed 
his  hope  had  failed  him.  I  have  heard  of  an  army,  who,  being 
defeated  in  battle,  endeavored  to  make  good  a  retreat.  With 
all  their  might  the  soldiers  fled  to  a  certain  river,  where  they 
expected  to  €nd  a  bridge  across  which  they  could  retreat  and 
be  in  safety.  But  when  they  came  to  the  stream,  there  was 
heard  a  shriek  of  terror — "  The  bridge  is  broken,  the  bridge 
is  broken  !"  All  in  vain  was  that  cry  ;  for  the  multitude  hur- 
rying on  behind,  pressed  upon  those  that  were  before  and 
forced  them  into  the  river,  until  the  stream  was  glutted  with 
the  bodies  of  drowned  men.  Such  must  be  the  fate  of  the 
self-righteous.     You  thought   there   was   a  bridge   of  cere- 


SATA^''S    BANQUET.  279 

monies ;  that  baptism,  confirmation,  and  the  Lord's  Supper 
made  up  the  solid  arches  of  a  bridge  of  good  works  and  duties. 
But  when  you  come  to  die,  tliere  shall  be  heard  the  cry — '•  The 
bridge  is  broken,  the  bridge  is  broken  !"  It  will  be  in  vain 
for  you  to  turn  round  then.  Death  is  close  behind  you ; 
he  forces  you  onward,  and  you  discover  what  it  is  to  perish, 
through  having  neglected  the  great  salvation,  and  attempting 
to  save  yourself  through  your  own  good  works.  This  is  the 
la:st  course  but  one ;  and  your  last  course  of  all,  the  worst 
wine,  your  everlasting  portion,  must  be  the  same  as  that  of 
the  profligate.  Good  as  you  thought  yourself  to  be,  inasmuch 
as  you  proudly  rejected  Christ,  you  must  drink  the  wine-cup 
of  the  wrath  of  God  ;  that  cup  which  is  full  of  trembling. 
The  wicked  of  the  earth  shall  wring  out  the  dregs  of  that 
cup,  and  drink  them  ;  and  you  also  must  drink  of  it  as  deep 
as  they.  Oh,  beware  in  time  !  Put  away  your  high  looks, 
and  humble  yourselves  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God. 
Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  ye  shall  be  saved.  ' 

3.  Some  of  you  have  as  yet  escaped  the  lash,  but  there  is  a 
third  table  crowded  with  most  honorable  guests.  I  believe 
there  have  been  more  princes  and  kings,  mayors  and  aldermen, 
and  great  merchants  sitting  at  this  table,  than  at  any  other. 
It  is  called  the  table  of  worldlhiess.  "  Humph,"  says  a  man, 
"  well,  I  dislike  the  profligate ;  there's  my  eldest  son,  I've 
been  hard  at  Avork  saving  up  money  all  my  life,  and  there's 
that  young  fellow,  he  will  not  stick  to  business  ;  he  has  become 
a  real  profligate  ;  I  am  very  glad  the  minister  spoke  so  sharp 
about  that.  As  for  me — there  now  ;  I  do  n't  care  about  your 
self-righteous  people  a  single  farthing ;  to  me  it  is  of  no  ac- 
count at  all ;  I  do  n't  care  at  all  about  religion  in  the  slightest 
degree;  I  like  to  know  whether  the  funds  rise  or  fall,  or 
whether  there  is  an  opportunity  of  making  a  good  bargain ; 
but  that's  about  all  I  care  for."  Ah  !  worldling,  I  have  read 
of  a  friend  of  yours,  who  was  clothed  in  scarlet,  and  fine  linen, 
and  fared  sumptuously  every  day.  Do  you  know  what  be- 
came of  Iiim  ?  You  should  remember  it,  for  the  same  end 
awaits  yourself.  The  end  of  h\s  feast  must  be  the  end  of 
yours.     If  your  Cod  is  this  world,  depend  upon  it  you  shall 


280  *  SATAN'S    BAXQUET. 

find  tbat  your  way  is  full  of  bitterness.  Now,  see  that  table 
of  the  worldly  man,  the  mere  worldling,  who  lives  for  gain. 
Satan  brings  him  in' a  flowing  cup.  "There,"  says  he,  "young 
man,  you  are  starting  in  business ;  you  heed  not  care  about 
the  conventionalities  of  honesty,  or  about  the  ordinary  old- 
fashioned  fancies  of  religion ;  get  rich  as  quick  as  ever  you 
can.  Get  money — get  money — honestly  if  you  can,  but,  if 
not,  get  it  anyhow,"  says  the  devil ;  and  down  he  puts  his 
tankard.  "  There,"  says  he,  "  is  a  foaming  draught  for  you." 
"  Yes,"  say?  the  young  man,  "  I-  have  abundance  now.  My 
hopes  are  indeed  reahzed."  Here,  then,  you  see  the  first 
and  best  wine  of  the  w^orldling's  feast,  and  many  of  you  are 
tempted  to  envy  this  man.  "  Oh,  that  I  had  such  a  prospect 
in  business,"  says  one;  "  I'm  not  half  so  sharp  as  he  is,  T  could 
not  deal  as  he  deals  ;  my  religion  would  not  let  me.  But  how 
fast  he  gets  rich !  O  that  I  could  prosper  as  he  does."  Come, 
my  brother,  judge  not  before  the  time  ;  there's  a  second  course 
to  come,  the  thick  and  nauseous  draught  of  care.  The  man 
has  got  his  money,  but  they  that  will  be  rich,  fall  into  temp- 
tation and  a  snare.  Wealth  ill-gotten,  or  ill-used,  or  hoarded, 
brings  a  canker  with  it,  that  does  not  canker  the  gold  and 
silver,  but  cankers  the  man's  heart,  and  a  cankered  heart  is  one 
of  the  most  awful  things  a  man  can  have.  Ah  !  see  this  money- 
lover,  and  mark  the  care  which  sits  upon  his  heart.  There 
is  a  poor  old  woman,  that  lives  near  his  lodge  gate.  She  has 
but  a  pittance  a  v/eek,  but  she  says,  "  Bless  the  Lord,  I  have 
enough  !"  She  never  asks  how  she  is  to  live,  or  how  she  is  to 
die,  or  how  she  is  to  bo  buried,  but  sleeps  sweetly  on  the  pil- 
low of  contentment  and  faith  ;  and  here  is  this  poor  fool  with 
untold  gold,  but  he  is  miserable  because  he  happened  to  drop 
a  sixpence  as  he  walked  along  the  streets,  or  because  he  had 
an  extra  call  upon  his  charity,  to  which  the  presence  of  some 
one  compelled  him  to  yield  :  or  perhaps  he  groans  because  his 
coat  wears  out  too  soon. 

After  this  comes  avarice.  Many  have  had  to  drink  of  that 
cup  ;  may  God  save  any  of  us  from  its  fiery  drops.  A  great 
American  preacher  has  said,  "  Covetousness  breeds  misery. 
The  sight  of  houses  better  than  our  own,  of  dress  beyond  our 


SATAN'S    BANQUET.  281 

means,  of  jewels  costlier  than  we  may  w^ear,  of  stately  equip- 
age, and  rare  curiosities  beyond  our  reach,  these  hatch  the 
viper  brood  of  covetous  thoughts;  vexing  the  poor,  who 
would  be  rich;  tormenting  the  rich,  who  would  be  richei*. 
The  covetous  man  pines  to  see  pleasure;  is  sad  in  the  pres- 
ence of  cheerfulness  ;  and  the  joy  of  the  world  is  his  sorrow, 
because  all  the  happiness  of  others  is  not  his.  I  do  not  w^on- 
der  that  God  abhors  him.  He  inspects  his  heart  as  he  would 
a  cave  full  of  noisome  birds,  or  a  nest  of  rattling  reptiles,  and 
loathes  the  sight  of  its  crawling  tenants.  To  the  covetous 
man  life  is  a  nightmare,  and  God  lets  him  wrestle  with  it  as 
best  he  may.  Mammon  might  build  its  palace  on  such  a  heart, 
and  Pleasure  bring  all  its  revelry  there.  Honor  all  its  garlands 
— it  would  be  like  pleasures  in  a  sepulcher,  and  a  garland  on  a 
tomb."  When  a  man  becomes  avaricious,  all  he  has  is  noth- 
ing to  him  ;  "  More,  more,  more  !"  says  he,  like  some  poor 
creatures  in  a  terrible  fever,  who  cry,  "  Drink,  drink,  drink !" 
and  you  give  them  drink,  but  after  they  have  it,  their  thirst 
increases.  Like  the  horse-leech  they  cry,  ''  Give,  give,  give !" 
Avarice  is  a  raving  madness  which  seeks  to  grasp  the  world 
in  its  arms,  and  yet  despises  the  plenty  it  has  already.  This 
is  a  curse  of  which  many  have  died ;  and  some  have  died  with 
the  bag  of  gold  in  their  hand,  and  with  misery  upon  their 
brow,  because  they  could  not  take  it  with  them  into  their 
coffin,  and  could  not  carry  it  into  another  world.  Well,  then, 
there  comes  the  next  course.  Baxter,  and  those  terrible  old 
preachers  used  to  picture  the  miser,  and  the  man  who  lived 
only  to  make  gold,  in  the  middle  of  hell ;  and  they  imagined 
Mammon  pouring  melted  gold  down  his  throat.  "  There," 
say  the  mocking  devils,  "  that  is  what  you  wanted,  you  have 
got  it  now  ;  drink,  drink,  drink !"  and  the  molten  gold  is 
poured  down.  I  shall  not,  however,  indulge  in  any  such  ter- 
rible imaginations,  but  this  much  I  know,  he  that  liveth  to 
himself  here,  must  perish  ;  he  who  sets  his  affections  upon 
things  on  earth,  hath  not  digged  deep — ^lie  has  built  his  house 
upon  the  sands;  and  when  the  rain  descends,  and  the  floods 
come,  down  must  come  his  house,  and  great  must  be  the  fall 
thereof.    It  is  the  best  wine  first,  however ;  it  is  the  respect- 


282  SATAN'S    BANQUET. 

able  man — respectable  and  respected — everybody  honors  him 
— and  afterwards  that  which  is  worse,  when  meanness  has 
beggared  his  wealth,  and  covetousness  has  maddened  his 
brain.  It  is  sure  to  come,  as  sure  as  ever  you  give  yourself 
up  to  w^orhiliness. 

4.  The  fourth  table  is  set  in  a  very  secluded  corner,  in  a 
very  private  part  of  Satan's  palace.  There  is  the  table  set 
for  secret  sinners^  and  here  the  old  rule.is  observed.  At  that 
'  table,  in  a  room  well  darkened,  I  see  a  young  man  sitting  to- 
day, and  Satan  is  the  servitor,  stepping  in  so  noiselessly,  that 
no  one  would  hear  him.  He  brings  in  the  first  cup — and  O 
how  sweet  it  is  !  It  is  the  cu^d  of  secret  sin.  "  Stolen  w^aters 
are  sweet,  and  bread  eaten  in  secret  is  pleasant."  How  sweet 
that  morsel,  eaten  all  alone  !  Was  there  ever  one  that  rolled 
so  delicately  under  the  tongue  ?  That  is  the  first ;  after  that, 
he  brings  in  another — the  wine  of  an  unquiet  conscience. 
The  man's  eyes  are  opened.  He  says,  "  What  have  I  done  ? 
What  have  I  been  doing?  Ah,"  cries  this  Achan,  *'  the  first 
cup  you  brought  me,  I  sav/  sparkling  in  that  a  wedge  of  gold, 
and  a  goodly  Babylonish  garment ;  and  I  thought,  '  O,  I  must 
have  that ;'  but  now  my  thought  is.  What  shall  I  do  to  hide 
this,  where  shall  I  put  it  ?  I  must  dig.  Ay,  I  must  dig  deep 
as  hell  before  I  shall  hide  it,  for  sure  enough  it  wall  be  dis- 
covered." 

The  grim  governor  of  the  feast  is  bringing  in  a  massive 
bowl,  filled  with  a  black  mixture.  The  secret  sinner  drinks, 
and  is  confounded  ;  he  fears  his  sin  will  find  him  out.  He 
has  no  peace,  no  happiness,  he  is  full  of  uneasy  fear ;  he  is 
afraid  that  he  shall  be  detected.  He  dreams  at  night  that 
there  is  some  one  after  him  ;  there  is  a  voice  whispenng 
in  his  ear,  and  telling  him,  "  I  know  all  about  it ;  I  will  tell 
it."  He  thinks,  perhaps,  that  the  sin  which  he  has  commit- 
ted in  secret  will  break  out  to  his  friends;  the  father  will 
know  it,  the  mother  will  know  it.  Ay,  it  may  be  even  the 
physician  will  tell  the  tale,  and  blab  out  the  wretched  secret. 
For  such  a  man  there  is  no  rest.  He  is  always  in  dread  of 
arrest.  He  is  like  the  debtor  I  have  read  of,  who,  owing  a 
great  deal  of  money,  was  afraid  the  bailiffs  were  after  him  : 


SATAN*S    BAKQUET.  283 

and  happening  one  day  to  catch  his  sleeve  on  the  top  of  a 
palisade,  said,  "  There,  let  me  go ;  I'm  in  a  hurry.  I  will 
pay  you  to-morrow,'*  imagining  that  some  one  was  laying 
hold  of  hira. 

Such  is  the  position  in  which  the  man  places  himself  by  par- 
taking of  the  hidden  things  of  dishonesty  and  sin.  Thus  he 
finds  no  rest  for  the  sole  of  his  foot  for  fear  of  discovery.  At 
last  the  discovery  comes ;  it  is  the  last  cup.  Often  it  comes 
on  earth ;  for  be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out,  and  it  will 
generally  find  you  out  here.  What  frightful  exhibitions  are 
to  be  seen  at  our  police  courts  of  men  who  are  made  to  drink 
that  last  black  draught  of  discovery.  The  man  who  presided 
at  religious  meetings,  the  man  who  was  honored  as  a  saint,  is 
at  last  unmasked.  And  what  saith  the  judge — and  what  saith 
the  world  of  him  ?  He  is  a  jest,  and  a  rei^roach,  and  a  rebuke 
everywhere.  But,  suppose  he  should  be  so  crafty,  that  he 
passes  through  life  without  discovery — though  I  think  it  is 
almost  impossible — what  a  cup  he  must  drink  when  he  stands 
at  last  before  the  bar  of  God !  "  Bring  him  forth,  jailor ! 
Dread  keeper  of  the  dungeon  of  hell,  lead  forth  the  prisoner." 
lie  comes !  The  whole  world  is  assembled.  "  "  Stand  up,  sir  ! 
Did  you  not  make  a  profession  of  religion?  did  not  every- 
body think  you  a  saint  ?"  He  is  speechless.  But  many  there 
are  in  that  vast  crowd  who  cry,  "  We  thought  him  so."  The 
book  is  open,  his  deeds  are  read :  transgression  after  trans- 
gression all  laid  bare.  Do  you  hear  that  hiss  ?  The  righteous, 
moved  to  indignation,  are  lifting  up  their  voices  against  the 
man  who  deceived  them,  and  dwelt  among  them  as  a  wolf  in 
sheep's  clothing.  Oh,  how  fearful  it  must  be  to  bear  the  scorn 
of  the  universe  !  The  good  can  bear  the  scorn  of  the  wicked, 
but  for  the  wicked  to  bear  the  shame  and  everlasting  contempt 
which  righteous  indignation  will  heap  upon  them,  will  be  one 
of  the  most  frightful  things,  next  to  the  eternal  endurance  of 
the  wrath  of  the  Most  High,  which,  I  need  not  add,  is  the  last 
cup  of  the  devil's  temble  feast,  with  which  the  secret  sinner 
must  be  filled  for  ever  and  ever. 

I  pause  now,  but  it  is  just  to  gather  up  my  strength,  to  beg 
that  any  thing  I  may  have  said,  that  shall  have  the  slightest 


284  SATAN'S   BANQUET. 

personal  bearing  upon  any  of  my  hearers,  may  not  be  forgotten. 
I  beseech  you,  men  ajid  brethren,  if  now  you  are  eating  the 
fat,  and  drinking  the  sweet  of  hell's  banquet,  pause  and  reflect 
what  shall  the  end  be  ?  "  He  that  soweth  to  the  flesh,  shall  of 
the  flesh  reap  corruption.  He  that  soweth  to  the  spirit,  shall 
of  the  spirit  reap  life  everlasting."  I  can  not  spare  more  time 
for  that,  most  assuredly. 

n.  But  you  must  pardon  me  while  I  occupy  only  a  few 
minutes  in  taking  you  into  the  house  op  the  Saviour,  where 
he  feasts  his  beloved.  Come  and  sit  with  us  at  Christ's  table 
of  outicard 2>rovidences.  He  does  not  feast  his  children  after 
the  fashion  of  the  prince  of  darkness :  for  the  first  cup  that 
Christ  brings  to  them  is  very  often  a  cup  of  bitterness.  There 
are  his  own  beloved  children,  his  own  redeemed,  who  have 
but  sorry  cheer.  Jesus  brings  in  the  cup  of  poverty  and 
affliction,  and  he  makes  his  own  children  drink  of  it,  till  they 
say,  "  Thou  hast  made  me  drunken  with  wormwood,  and  thou 
hast  filled  me  with  bitterness."  This  is  the  way  Christ  begins. 
The  worst  wine  first.  When  the  sergeant  begins  with  a  young 
recruit,  he  gives  him  a  shilling,  and  then,  afterwards,  come  the 
march  and  the  battle.  But  Christ  never  takes  his  recruits  so. 
They  must  count  the  cost,  lest  they  should  begin  to  build,  and 
not  be  able  to  finish.  He  seeks  to  have  no  disciples  who  are 
dazzled  with  first  aj^pearances.  He  begins  roughly  with  them,  ' 
and  many  have  been  his  children  who  have  found  that  the 
first  course  of  the  Redeemer's  table  has  been  affliction,  sorrow, 
poverty  and  want. 

In  the  olden  time,  when  the  best  of  God's  people  were  at 
the  table,  he  used  to  serve  them  worst,  for  they  wandered 
about  in  sheep  skins  and  goat  skins,  being  destitute,  afflicted, 
tormented,  of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,  and  they  kept 
on  drinking  of  these  bitter  cups  for  many  a  day ;  but  let  me 
tell  you,  afterwards  he  brought  out  sweeter  cups  for  them, 
and  you  that  have  been  troubled  have  found  it  so.  After  the 
cup  of  affliction,  comes  the  cup  of  consolation,  and,  oh,  how 
sweet  is  that !  It  has  been  the  privilege  of  these  lips  to  drink 
that  cup  after  sickness  and  pain  ;  and  I  can  bear  witness,  that 
I  said  of  my  Master,  "  Thou  hast  kept  the  best  wine  until 


SATAN'S   BANQUET.  285 

now."  It  was  so  luscious,  that  the  taste  thereof  did  take  away 
every  taste  of  the  bitterness  of  sorrow ;  and  I  said,  "  Surely 
the  bitterness  of  this  sickness  is  all  past,  for  the  Lord  has 
manifested  hiinself  to  me,  and  given  me  his  best  wine."  But, 
beloved,  the  best  wine  is  to  come  last.  God's  people  will  find 
it  so  outwardly.  The  poor  saint  comes  to  die.  The  Master 
has  given  him  the  cup  of  poverty,  but  now  no  more  he  drinks 
thereof,  he  is  rich  to  all  the  intents  of  bliss.  He  has  had  the 
cup  of  sickness  ;  he  shall  drink  of  that  no  more.  He  has  had 
the  enp  of  persecution,  but  now  he  is  glorified,  together  with 
his  Master,  and  made  to  sit  upon  Ms  throne.  The  best  things 
have  come  last  to  him  in  outward  circumstances.  There  were 
two  martyrs  once  burned  at  Stratford-le-Bow ;  one  of  them 
was  lame,  and  the  other  blind,  and  when  they  were  tied  to 
the  stake,  the  lame  man  took  his  crutch  and  threw  it  down, 
and  said  to  the  other,  "  Cheer  up,  brother,  this  is  the  sharp 
physic  that  shall  heal  us ;  I  shall  not  be  lame  within  an  hour 
of  this  time,  nor  shalt  thou  be  blind."  Xo,  the  best  things 
were  to  come  last.  But  I  have  often  thought  that  the  child 
f  God  is  very  much  like  the  Crusaders.  The  Crusaders  started 
olf  on  their  journey,  and  they  had  to  fight  their  way  through 
many  miles  of  enemies,  and  to  march  through  leagues  of  dan- 
ger. You  remember,  perhaps,  in  history,  the  story  that  when 
the  armies  of  the  Duke  of  Bouillon  came  insight  of  Jerusalem, 
they  sprang  from  their  horses,  clapped  their  hands,  and  cried, 
"Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem  I"  They  forgot  all  their 
toils,  all  the  weariness  of  the  journey  and  all  their  wounds,  for 
there  was  Jerusalem  in  their  sight.  And  how  will  the  saint  at 
last  cry,  "Jerusalem!  Jerusalem !"  when  all  sorrow,  and  all 
poverty  and  sickness  are  past,  and  he  is  blest  with  immortality. 
The  bad  wine — bad  did  I  say  ? — nay,  the  hitter  wine  is  taken 
away,  and  the  best  wine  is  brought  out,  and  the  saint  sees  him- 
self glorified  for  ever  with  Christ  Jesus. 

And  now,  wo  will  sit  down  at  the  table  oi  inward  experience. 
The  fii-st  cup  that  Chiist  brings  to  his  children,  when  they  sit 
at  that  table,  is  one  so  bitter  that,  perhaps,  no  tongue  can  ever 
describe  it — it  is  the  cup  o^conmction.  It  is  a  black  cup,  full 
of  the  most  intense  bitterness.    The  apostle  Paul  once  drank 


286  SATAN'S   BANQUET. 

a  little  of  it,  but  it  was  so  strong  that  it  made  him  blind  for 
three  days.  The  conviction  of  his  sin  overpowered  him  totally ; 
he  could  only  give  his  soul  to  fasting  and  to  prayer,  and  it  was 
only  wiien  he  drank  of  the  next  cup  that  the  scales  fell  from 
off  his  eyes.  I  have  drank  of  it,  children  of  God,  and  I  thought 
that  Jesus  was  unkind,  but,  in  a  little  while,  he  brought  me 
forth  a  sweeter  cup,  the  cup  of  his  forgiving  love,  filled  with 
the  rich  crimson  of  his  precious  blood.  Oh  !  the  taste  of  that 
wine  is  in  my  mouth  this  very  hour,  for  the  taste  thereof  is  as 
the  wine  of  Lebanon,  that  abideth  in  the  cask  for  many  a 
day.  Do  you  not  remember  when,  after  you  had  drunk  the 
cup  of  sorrow,  Jesus  came  and  show^ed  you  his  hands  and  his 
side,  and  said,  "  Sinner,  I  have  died  for  thee,  and  given  myself 
for  thee  ;  believe  on  me  ?"  Do  you  not  remember  how  you 
believed,  and  sipped  the  cup,  and  how  you  beheved  again  and 
took  a  deeper  draught,  and  said,  "  Blessed  be  the  name  of 
God  from  this  time  forth  and  for  ever;  and  let  the  whole 
earth  say,  'Amen,'  for  he  hath  broken  the  gates  of  brass,  and 
cut  the  bars  of  iron  in  sunder,  and  let  the  captives  go  free?" 
Since  then  the  glorious  Master  has  s*aid  to  you,  "  Friend,  come 
up  higher !"  and  he  has  taken  you  to  upper  seats  in  the  best 
rooms,  and  he  has  given  you  sweeter  things.  I  will  not  tell 
you  to-day  of  the  wines  you  have  drank.  The  spouse  in  Solo- 
mon's Song  may  supply  the  deficiency  of  my  sermon  this 
morning.  She  drank  of  the  spiced  wine  of  his  pomegranate  ; 
and  so  have  you,  in  those  high  and  happy  moments  when  you 
had  fellowship  with  the  Father,  and  with  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ. 
But  tarry  aAvhile,  he  has  kept  the  best  wine  yet.  You  shall  soon 
come  near  the  banks  of  the  Jordan,  and  then  you  shall  begin 
to  drink  of  the  old  wine  of  the  kingdom,  that  has  been  barreled 
up  since  the  foundation  of  the  world.  The  vintage  of  the 
Saviour's  agony,  the  vintage  of  Gethsemane  shall  soon  be 
broached  for  you,  the  old  wine  of  the  kingdom.  You  are 
come  into  the  land  "  Beulah,"  and  you  begin  to  taste  the  full 
flavor  of  the  wines  on  the  lees  well  refined.  You  know  how 
Buryan  describes  the  state  which  borders  on  the  vale  of  death. 
It  was  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey  ;  a  land  where  the 
angels  often  came  to  visit  the  saints,  and  to  bring  bundles  of 


SATAN'S    BANQUET.  287 

myrrh  from  the  land  of  spices.  And  now  the  high  step  is 
taken,  the  Lord  puts  his  finger  upon  your  eyelids  and  kisses 
your  soul  out  at  your  lips.  Where  are  you  now  ?  In  a  sea  ot 
love,  and  life,  and  bliss,  and  immortality.  "  O  Jesus,  Jesus, 
Jesus,  thou  hast  indeed  kept  the  best  wine  until  now !  My 
Master !  I  have  seen  thee  on  the  Sabbath,  but  tliis  is  an  ever- 
lasting Sabbath.  I  have  met  thee  in  the  congregation,  but 
this  is  a  congregation  that  shall  ne'er  break  up.  O  my  Master  ! 
I  have  seen  the  promises,  but  this  is  the  fulfillment.  I  liave 
blessed  thee  for  gracious  providences,  but  this  is  something 
more  than  all  these  :  thou  didst  give  me  grace,  but  now  thou 
hast  given  me  glory ;  thou  wast  once  my  shield,  but  thou  art 
now  my  sun.  I  am  at  thy  right  hand,  where  there  is  fullness 
of  joy  for  ever.  Thou  hast  kept  thy  best  wine  until  now.  All 
I  ever  had  before  was  as  nothing  compared  with  this." 

And,  lastly — though,  only  time  fails  me,  I  could  preach  a  week 
upon  this  subject — the  table  of  comimmion  is  one  at  which 
God's  children  must  sit.  And  the  first  thing  they  must  drink 
of  there,  is  the  cup  of  communion  with  Christ  in  his  sufferings. 
If  thou  wouldst  come  to  the  table  of  communion  with  Christ, 
thou  must  first  of  all  drink  of  the  wine  of  Calvary.  Christian, 
thy  head  must  be  crowned  with  thorns.  Thy  hands  must  be 
pierced,  I  mean  not  with  nails,  but,  spiritually  thou  must  be 
crucified  with  Christ.  We  must  suffer  with  him,  or  else  we 
can  not  reign  with  him  ;  we  must  labor  with  him  first ;  we 
must  sup  of  the  wine  which  his  Father  gave  him  to  drink,  or 
else  we  can  not  expect  to  come  to  the  better  part  of  the  feast. 
After  drinking  of  the  whie  of  his  sufferings,  and  continuing  to 
drink  of  it,  we  must  drink  of  the  cup  of  his  labors,  we  must 
be  baptized  with  his  baptism,  we  must  labor  after  souls,  and 
sympathize  with  liim  in  that  ambition  of  his  heart — the  salva- 
tion of  sinners,  and  after  that  he  will  give  us  to  drink  of  the 
cnj)  of  his  anticipated  honors.  Here  on  earth  we  shall  have 
good  wuie  in  communion  with  Christ  in  his  resurrection,  in 
his  triumphs  and  his  victories,  but  the  best  wine  is  to  come  at 
last.  O  chambers  of  communion,  your  gates  have  been  opened 
to  me  ;  but  I  have  only  been  able  to  glance  within  them  ;  but 
the  day  is  coming  when  on  your  diamond  hinges  ye  shall  turn, 


288  SATAN'S   BANQUET. 

and  stand  wide  open  for  ever  and  ever ;  and  I  shall  enter  into 
the  king's  palace  and  go  no  more  out.  O  Christian !  thou 
shalt  soon  see  the  King  in  his  beauty ;  thy  head  shall  soon  be 
on  his  bosom  ;  thou  shalt  soon  sit  at  his  feet  with  Mary ;  thou 
shalt  soon  do  as  the  spouse  did,  thou  shalt  kiss  him  with  the 
kisses  of  his  lips,  and  feel  that  his  love  is  better  than  wine.  I 
can  conceive  you,  brethren,  in  the  very  last  moment  of  your 
life,  or  rather,  in  the  first  moment  of  your  life,  saying,  *'  He 
has  kept  the  best  wine  until  now."  When  you  beghi  to  see 
him  face  to  face,  when  you  enter  into  the  closest  fellowship, 
with  nothing  to  disturb,  or  to  distract  you,  then  shall  you  say, 
"  The  best  wine  is  kept  until  now." 

A  saint  was  once  dying,  and  another  who  sat  by  him  said — 
"  Farewell,  brother,  I  shall  never  see  you  again  in  the  land  of 
the  living."  "  Oh,"  said  the  dying  man,  "  I  shall  see  you 
again  in  the  land  of  the  living  that  is  up  yonder,  where  I  am 
going ;  this  is  the  land  of  the  dying?''  Oh,  brethren  and  sis- 
ters, if  we  should  never  meet  again  in  the  land  of  the  dying, 
have  we  a  hope  that  we  shall  meet  in  the  land  of  the  living, 
and  drink  the  best  wine  at  last  ? 


SERMON  XVIII. 

THE   FEAST    OF   THE    LORD. 

"  The  governor  of  the  feast  called  the  bridegroom,  aud  saith  unto  him,  every 
man  at  the  beginnmg  doth  set  forth  good  wine;  and  when  men  have  well 
drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse;  but  thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until 
now." — John,  iL  9,  10. 

I  HAD  exhausted  my  time  this  morning  by  describing  the 
feast  of  Satan — how  at  the  four  tables,  whereat  did  sit  the 
profligate,  the  self-righteous,  the  worldly,  and  the  secretly 
sinful,  the  course  of  Satan  was  always  on  this  wise — first  the 
good  wine,  and  when  men  had  well  drunken,  that  which  was 
worse.  His  feast  diminished  in  its  value  as  it  proceeded,  and 
went  from  the  bright  crackling  of  the  thorn  under  the  pot  to 
the  blackness  of  darkness  for  ever.  I  had  then  in  my  second 
point  to  show,  that  the  rule  of  Christ's  banquet  is  just  the 
very  reverse — that  Christ  doth  always  give  the  best  wine  last 
— that  he  doth  save  the  good  things  until  the  end  of  the  feast ; 
nay,  that  sometimes  the  first  cups  at  the  table  of  Christ  are 
full  of  wormwood  and  gall,  and  are  exceeding  bitter,  but  that 
if  we  tarry  at  the  feast,  they  will  grow  sweeter,  and  sweeter, 
and  sweeter,  until  at  last,  when  we  shall  come  into  the  land 
Beulah,  and  especially  when  we  shall  enter  into  the  city  of 
our  God,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  say,  "  Thou  hast  kept  the 
good  wine  imtil  now." 

Now,  my  dear  friends,  this  is  a  great  fact,  that  Christ's  feast 
increaseth  in  sweetness.  When  first  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
proclaimed  a  feast  for  the  sons  of  men,  the  first  cup  he  set  up- 
on the  table  was  but  a  very  little  one,  and  it  had  in  it  but  few 
words  of  consolation.  You  remember  the  inscription  upon 
that  ancient  vessel,  the  first  cup  of  consolation  that  was  ever 
held  to  the  sons  of  men — "  The  seed  of  the  woman  shall  bruise 

13 


290  THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD. 

the  serpent's  head."  There  was  to  them  but  little  sweetness 
there  :  much  to  us,  because  we  can  understand  it  better,  and 
8ome  to  them,  because  God's  Spirit  might  help  them  to  under- 
stand it,  but  still  in  the  revelation  of  it  there  seemed  but  little 
promise.  As  the  world  went  on,  there  were  greater  cups  of 
precious  wine  brought  forth,  whereof  patriarchs  and  ancient 
saints  did  drink ;  but,  beloved,  all  the  wine  they  ever  had  un- 
der the  Old  Testament  dispensation  was  far  behind  that  of 
which  we  drink.  He  that  is  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  more  highly  favored  than  he  who  is  chief  under  the  Old 
Testament  dispensation.  Our  fathers  did  eat  manna,  but  we 
do  eat  the  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven  ;  they  did  drink 
of  water  in  the  wilderness,  but  we  drink  of  that  living  water 
whereof  if  a  man  drink  he  shall  never  thirst.  It  is  true  they 
had  much  sweetness  ;  the  cups  of  the  ancient  tabernacle  had 
precious  wine  in  them  ;  there  was  in  the  outward  symbol  the 
sign  and  the  shadow,  much  that  was  delightful  to  the  faith  of 
the  true  believer ;  but  we  must  remember  that  we  are  drink- 
ing to-day  of  that  wine  which  prophets  and  kings  desired  to 
drink  of,  but  died  without  a  taste  thereof.  They  guessed  its 
sweetness  ;  they  could  by  faith  foresee  what  it  w^ould  be  ;  but 
lo  !  we  are  allowed  to  sit  at  the  table  and  quaff  full  draughts 
of  wines  on  the  lees  well  refined,  which  God  hath  given  to  us 
in  this  mountain  wherein  he  hath  made  a  feast  of  fat  things  for 
all  people. 

But,  beloved,  the  text  still  stands  true  of  us — there  is  better 
wine  to  come.  We  are  in  our  privileges  superior  to  patri- 
archs, and  kings  and  prophets.  God  has  given  us  a  brighter 
and  a  clearer  day  than  they  had ;  theirs  was  but  the  twilight 
of  the  morning,  compared  with  the  noon-day  which  we  enjoy. 
But  think  not  that  we  are  come  to  the  best  wine  yet.  There 
are  more  noble  banquets  for  God's  church  ;  and  who  knoweth 
how  long  ere  the  best  of  the  precious  wine  shall  be  broached  ? 
Know  ye  not  that  the  King  of  heaven  is  connng  again  upon 
this  earth?  Jesus  Christ,  who  came  once  and  broached  his 
heart  for  us  on  Calvary,  is  coming  again,  to  flood  the  earth 
with  glory.  He  came  once  with  a  sin-offering  in  his  hand  : 
behold,  he  comes  no  more  with  a  sin-offering,  but  with  the 


THE  FEAST  OP  THE  LOED.  291 

cup  of  salvation  and  of  thanksgiving,  to  call  upon  the  name 
of  the  Lord  and  joyously  to  take  unto  himself  the  throne  of 
his  father  David.  You  and  I,  if  we  be  alive  and  remain,  shall 
yet  set  that  cup  to  our  lips  ;  and  if  we  die,  we  have  this  privi- 
lege, this  happy  consolation,  that  we  shall  not  be  behindhand, 
for  "  the  trumpet  shall  sound,  and  the  dead  shall  be  raised  in- 
corruptible," and  we  shall  diink  of  that  millennial  wine  which 
Christ  our  Saviour  hath  reserved  to  the  last.  Saints  !  ye  can 
not  tell  what  golden  goblets  those  are  of  which  ye  shall  drink 
in  the  thousand  years  of  the  Redeemer's  triumph.  Ye  can 
not  tell  what  wine,  sparkling  and  red,  that  shall  be,  which 
shall  come  from  the  vintage  of  the  hills  of  glory,  when  he 
whose  garments  are  red  with  treading  the  wine-press,  shall 
descend  in  the  great  day  and  stand  upon  the  earth.  Why, 
the  very  thought  of  this  cheered  Job.  "  I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon 
the  earth  :  and  though  after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body, 
yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God."  Let  this  rejoice  and  cheer 
thee,  Christian,  that  the  good  wine  is  kept  even  unto  that 
time. 

And  now,  having  sho^vn  that  this  is  the  rule  of  Christ  in  the 
great  dispensation  which  he  uses  to  all  his  church,  I  shall 
come  to  the  subject  of  this  evening,  which  is  this :  First, 
The  fact  that  the  believer  shaUflnd  that  Christ  keeps  for  him 
the  best  wine  till  the  last ;  secondly,  The  reason  of  Christ  for 
80  doing  /  and  thirdly,  The  lesson  which  we  ought  to  learn 
therefrom. 

I.   First,  THE  FACT  THAT  ChRIST  KEEPS  HIS  GOOD  WINE  TILL 

THE  LAST.  I  was  thinking  as  I  rode  here  how  very  true  this 
is  of  some  of  God's  people.  Why  there  are  some  of  God's 
best  beloved  who  have  tl:eir  names  upon  the  breast-plate  of 
the  great  high  priest,  who  are  purchased  with  his  blood,  and 
are  very  dear  to  his  soul,  who  have  not  known  from  their 
yonth  up  what  it  is  to  get  out  of  the  depths  of  poverty.  They 
have  to  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  not  knowing  one  day  whence 
another  meal  shall  come.  How  many  more  there  are  of 
God's  people  that  are  lying  on  beds  of  affliction  !  Some  of 
the  most  precious  of  God's  diamonds  are  lying  on  the  dung- 


292  THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LOED. 

hill  of  disease.  Ye  may  go  and  climb  to  many  a  chamber 
where  ye  shall  see  the  victims  of  all  kinds  of  diseases,  loath- 
some, protracted,  and  painful,  and  ye  shall  see  God's  dear  ones 
languishing  out  a  dying  life.  I  might  point  you  to  others  of 
God's  servants,  whose  days  are  spent  in  toil.  There  is  needed 
for  the  human  body,  and  especially  for  the  soul,  a  little  rest 
and  a  little  of  the  food  of  knowledge  ;  but  these  have  had  so 
little  instruction  that  they  can  not  get  mental  food  ready  for 
themselves;  if  they  read  they  can  scarce  understand,  and  they 
have  hard  bondage  in  this  life,  which  maketh  their  life  bitter 
and  hindereth  them  from  knowledge.  They  have  to  work 
from  morning  to  night,  with  scarce  a  moment's  rest.  Oh,  be- 
loved, will  it  not  be  true  of  them,  when  death  shall  give  them 
their  discharge,  when  they  shall  leave  this  world,  which  has 
been  to  them,  with  an  emphasis,  a  vale  of  4:ears  ?  Will  not 
they  have  to  say,  "  Thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now  ?" 
Oh,  what  a  change  for  her  who  has  come  limping  along  these 
many  Sabbath  days  to  the  sanctuary  !  for  there,  she  shall  go  no 
more  up  to  the  Lord's  house  limping  and  lame,  but  the  "  lame 
man  shall  leap  like  the  hart,"  and  like  Miriam,  she  shall  dance 
with  the  daughters  of  Israel.  Ah,  ye  may  have  had  to  suffer 
sickness  and  sorrow  and  pain,  blindness  and  deafness,  and  a 
thousand  of  this  world's  ills :  what  a  change  for  you,  when 
you  find  them  all  gone  !  Ko  racking  pains,  no  pining  want, 
no  anxious  care.  Ye  shall  not  have  to  cry  for  the  sunlight  to 
penetrate  your  abodes,  or  weep  because  your  sight  is  failing 
through  incessant  labor  with  that  murderous  needle ;  but  ye 
shall  see  the  Hght  of  God,  brighter  than  the  light  of  the  sun, 
and  ye  shall  rejoice  in  the  beams  that  proceed  from  his  coun- 
tenance. Ye  shall  have  no  more  infirmities;  immortahty  shall 
have  covered  and  swallowed  them  up ;  that  which  was  sown 
in  weakness  shall  be  raised  in  power ;  that  which  was  sown 
disordered,  full  of  pain  and  sorrow,  and  disjointed  and  full  of 
agony,  shall  be  raised  full  of  delectable  delights,  no  more  ca- 
pable of  anguish,  but  quivering  with  joy  and  bliss  unspeaka- 
ble. Ye  shall  no  more  be  poor ;  ye  shall  be  rich,  richer  than 
the  miser's  dream.  Ye  shall  no  more  have  to  labor  ;  there 
shall  ye  rest  upon  your  beds,  each  one  of  you  walking  in  your 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD.  293 

uprightness.  Te  shall  no  more  suffer  fi-om  neglect  and  scorn 
and  ignominy  and  persecution  ;  ye  shall  be  glorified  with 
Christ,  in  the  day  when  he  shall  come  to  be  admired  of  them 
that  love  him.  What  a  change  for  such  !  The  best  wine 
Sndeed  is  kept  to  the  last,  in  their  case,  for  they  have  never  had 
any  good  wine  here,  to  the  eyes  of  men,  though  secretly  they 
have  had  many  a  drink  from  the  bottle  of  Jesus.  He  has 
often  put  his  cordial  cup  to  their  lips.  They  have  been  like 
the  ewe  lamb  that  belonged  to  the  man  in  Nathan's  parable  : 
they  have  drunk  out  of  Christ's  own  cup  on  the  earth,  but 
still  even  sweeter  than  that  cup  shall  be  the  draught  which 
they  shall  receive  at  the  last. 

But,  my  dear  friends,  although  I  put  these  first,  as  especially 
feeling  the  change,  because  we  can  see  the  difference,  yet  will 
it  be  true  of  the  most  favored  of  God's  children — all  of  them 
shall  say,  "  The  best  wine  is  kept  till  now."  Of  all  the  men 
whom  I  might  envy,  I  think  I  should  first  of  all  envy  the 
apostle  Paul.  What  a  man !  How  highly  favored !  how 
greatly  gifted !  how  much  blessed  !  Ah,  Paul,  thou  couldst 
talk  of  revelations  and  of  visions  from  on  high.  He  heard 
things  which  it  was  unlawful  for  a  man  to  utter,  and  he  saw 
that  which  few  eyes  have  ever  seen.  He  was  caught  up  into 
the  third  heaven.  What  draughts  of  joy  the  apostle  Paul 
must  have  had  !  what  lookings  into  the  deep  tilings  of  God  ! 
what  soarings  into  the  heights  of  heaven  !  Perhaps  there  was 
never  a  man  who  was  more  favored  of  God  ;  to  have  his 
mind  expanded,  and  then  to  have  it  filled  full  with  the  wisdom 
and  the  revelation  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Most  High.  But 
ask  the  apostle  Paul  whether  he  believes  there  is  any  thing 
better  to  come,  and  he  tells  you,  "  Now  we  see  through  a 
glass  darkly,  but  then  we  shall  see  face  to  face  ;  now  we  know 
in  part,  but  then  shall  we  know  even  as  we  are  known."  He 
was  evidently  expecting  something  more  than  he  had  received ; 
and,  beloved,  he  was  not  disappointed.  There  was  a  heaven 
as  much  above  all  the  enjoyments  of  Paul,  as  the  enjoyments 
of  Paul  were  above  the  depressions  of  his  spirit,  when  he  said, 
"  O  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  tlio 
body  of  this  death  ?"     There  are  children  of  God  who  havo 


294  THE  FEAST  OP  THE  LORD. 

all  that  they  can  need  of  this  world's  goods  ;  they  seem  to  be 
free  from  earthly  care,  and  they  have  faith  enough  to  trust 
their  God  with  regard  to  the  future.  Their  faith  is  firm  and 
strong ;  they  have  much  love  to  the  Redeemer ;  they  are  en- 
gaged in  some  delightful  work,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  attends 
that  work  with  great  success.  Their  days  follow  steadily  one 
after  another,  like  the  waves  of  the  still,  calm  sea.  God  is 
with  them,  and  they  are  greatly  blessed  ;  they  spread  out  their 
roots  by  the  river,  their  leaf  also  doth  not  wither,  and  whatso- 
ever they  do,  it  prospereth  ;  whichever  way  they  turn  their 
band  the  Lord  their  God  is  with  them ;  in  whatsoever  land 
they  put  their  feet  they  are  like  Joshua — that  land  is  givdfe 
them  to  be  an  inheritance  to  them  for  ever.  But,  beloved, 
even  these  shall  see  greater  things  than  they  have  as  yet 
beheld.  High  as  their  Master  has  taken  them  into  the  house 
of  banqueting,  lofty  though  the  room  be  in  which  they  now 
feast,  the  Master  shall  say  to  them,  "  Come  up  higher."  They 
shall  know  more,  enjoy  more,  feel  more,  do  more,  possess  more. 
They  shall  be  nearer  to  Christ ;  they  shall  have  richer  enjoy- 
ments and  sweeter  employments  than  they  have  had  ;  and 
they  shall  feel  that  their  Master  hath  kept  his  good  wine  even 
until  now. 

Entering  into  particulars  for  a  moment,  very  briefly,  I  must 
just  observe,  that  there  are  many  aspects  under  which  we  may 
regard  the  heavenly  state,  and  in  each  of  these  we  shall  have 
to  say  that  Christ  has  kept  the  good  wine  until  then.  Here 
on  earth  the  believer  enters  into  rest  by  faith ;  the  Christian 
enjoys  rest  even  in  the  wilderness ;  the  promise  is  fulfilled. 
"They  shall  dwell  safely  in  the  wilderness,  and  sleep  in  the 
woods."  God  giveth  to  his  beloved  sleep ;  there  is  a  peace 
that  passeth  all  understanding,  which  we  may  enjoy  even  in 
this  land  of  turmoil,  strife,  and  alarms — a  peace  which  the 
worldling  knoweth  not  of,  nor  can  he  guess  it — 

"  A  holy  calm  within  the  breast, 
The  earnest  of  that  glorious  rest 
Which  for  the  church  of  God  remains, 
The  end  of  cares,  the  end  of  pains." 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD.  295 

But,  beloved,  drink  as  we  may  of  the  cup  of  peace,  the  good 
wine  is  kept  until  a  future  time.  The  peace  we  drink  to-day 
is  dashed  with  some  drops  of  bitter.  There  are  disturbing 
thoughts ;  the  cares  of  this  world  will  come,  doubts  will  arise  ; 
live  as  we  may  in  this  world,  we  must  have  disquietudes ; 
thorns  in  the  flesh  must  come.  But,  oh !  the  "  rest  that  re- 
maineth  for  the  people  of  God."  What  good  ^vine  shall  that 
be  !  God  hath  a  sun  without  a  spot,  a  sky  without  a  cloud,  a 
day  without  a  night,  a  sea  without  a  wave,  a  world  without  a 
tear.  Happy  are  they  who,  having  passed  through  this  world, 
have  entered  into  rest,  and  ceased  from  their  own  works,  as 
God  did  from  his,  bathing  their  weary  souls  in  seas  of  heavenly 
rest. 

View  heaven  under  another  aspect.  It  is  a  place  of  holy 
company.  In  this  world  we  have  had  some  good  wine  of 
sweet  company.  We  can  tell  of  many  of  the  precious  sons 
of  Zion  with  whom  we  have  taken  sweet  counsel ;  blessed  be 
the  Lord  ;  the  righteous  have  not  all  failed  from  among  men. 
Some  of  you  can  remember  golden  names  that  were  very  dear 
to  you  in  the  days  of  your  youth — of  men  and  women  with 
whom  you  used  to  go  up  to  God's  house  and  take  sweet  coun- 
sel. Ah,  what  words  used  to  drop  from  their  lips,  and  what 
sweet  balm  you  had  in  the  days  of  your  sorrow  when  they 
comforted  and  consoled  you :  and  you  have  friends  still  left, 
to  whom  you  look  up  with  some  degree  of  reverence,  while 
they  look  upon  you  with  intense  affection.  There  are  some  men 
that  are  comforters  to  your  soul,  and  when  you  talk  to  them 
you  feel  that  their  heart  answers  to  your  heart,  and  that  you 
can  enjoy  union  and  communion  with  them.  But,  beloved, 
the  good  wine  is  kept  till  the  last.  All  the  fellowship  with 
the  saints  that  we  have  had  here,  is  as  nothing  compared  with 
what  we  are  to  enjoy  in  the  world  to  come.  How  sweet  it  is 
for  us  to  recollect,  that  in  heaven  we  shall  be  in  the  company 
of  the  best  men,  the  noblest  men,  the  most  mighty  men,  the 
most  honorable,  and  the  most  renowned.  We  shall  sit  with 
Moses,  and  talk  with  him  of  all  his  life  of  wonders;  we  shall 
walk  with  Joseph,  and  we  shall  hear  from  him  of  the  grace 
that  kept  hira  in  his  hour  of  pei-il ;  I  <loubt  not  you  and  I  shall 


296  THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD. 

have  the  privilege  of  sitting  by  the  side  of  David,  and  hear- 
ing him  recount  the  perils  and  the  dehverances  through  which 
he  passed.  The  saints  of  heaven  make  but  one  communion; 
they  are  not  divided  into  separate  classes ;  we  shall  be  al- 
lowed to  walk  through  all  the  glorious  ranks,  and  hold  fel- 
lowship with  aU  of  them ;  nor  need  we  doubt  that  we  shall 
be  able  to  know  them  all.  There  are  many  reasons,  which  I 
could  not  now  enumerate,  for  it  would  occupy  too  much 
time,  that  seem  to  my  mind  to  settle  the  point,  that  in  heaven 
we  shall  know  even  as  we  are  known,  and  shall  perfectly  know 
each  other;  and  that,  indeed,  makes  us  long  to  be  there. 
"The  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born,  whose 
names  are  written  in  heaven."  Oh,  to  get  away  from  this 
poor  church  here,  that  is  full  of  strifes  and  divisions,  and  bick- 
erings and  jealousies  and  animosities — to  get  away  from  the 
society  of  men  that  are  full  of  infirmities,  although  they  have 
much  grace,  and  to  get  into  a  place  where  there  shall  be  no  infir- 
mities in  those  with  whom  we  talk — no  hasty  tempers — where 
we  can  not  possibly  strike  a  chord  that  would  make  a  jarring 
note — when  it  shall  not  be  in  our  power  to  raise  among  those 
holy  birds  of  paradise  a  cause  of  strife — when  we  shall  walk 
in  the  midst  of  them  all,  and  see  love  beaming  from  every  eye, 
and  feel  that  deep  afiection  is  seated  in  every  heart.  Oh!  that 
will  be  the  best  wine.  Are  you  not  longing  to  drink  of  it  ? 
— to  enter  into  that  great  church  fellowship,  and  attend  those 
glorious  church  meetings, 

"  Where  all  the  chosen  race 
Shall  meet  around  the  throne, 
To  bless  the  conduct  of  his  grace, 
And  make  his  wonders  known." 

Again,  look  at  heaven,  if  you  will,  in  the  point  of  knowledge. 
We  know  very  much  on  earth  that  makes  us  happy;  Jesus 
Christ  hath  taught  us  many  things  that  give  us  joy  and  glad- 
ness. It  is  a  world  of  ignorance,  but  still  through  grace  we 
have  entered  into  the  ^hool  of  the  gospel,  and  we  have  learned 
some  sweet  truths.  It  is  true  we  are  very  much  like  the  boy 
who  is  beginning  to  write.     We  have  to  make  many  ugly 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD.  297 

pot-hooks  and  haugers,  and  we  have  not  yet  learned  to  write 
the  sweet  running  hand  of  joy;  but  nevertheless,  the  Lord 
has  taught  us  some  great  truths  to  till  our  hearts  with  joy ; — 
the  great  doctrine  ot*  election,  the  knowledge  of  our  redemp- 
tion, the  fact  of  our  security  in  Christ ;  these  great  but  sim- 
ple doctrines  have  filled  our  hearts  with  bliss.  But,  breth- 
ren, the  best  wine  is  kept  till  the  last ;  when  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  shall  take  the  book  and  break  the  seals  thereof,  and 
permit  us  to  read  it  all,  then  shall  we  rejoice  indeed,  for  tl)e 
best  wine  will  be  at  our  lips.  There  are  old  casks  of  knowl- 
edge that  contain  the  lichest  wine,  and  Christ  shall  stave  them 
in,  and  we  shall  drink  of  them  to  the  full.  It  is  not  fit  that 
we  should  know  all  things  now — we  could  not  bear  many 
things,  and  therefore  Christ  keeps  them  back ;  but 

'*  There  shall  you  see,  and  hear,  and  know, 
AU  you  desired  or  wished  below, 
And  every  power  find  sweet  employ 
In  that  eternal  world  of  joy." 

You  may,  if  you  please,  look  at  heaven  in  another  sense — 
as  a  place  of  manifestations  and  of  joys.  Now  this  world  is 
a  place  of  manifestations  to  the  believer.  Shall  I  venture  for 
a  moment,  or  even  for  a  second,  to  talk  of  manifestations  of 
hiraseli'  which  Christ  is  pleased  to  aflbrd  to  his  poor  children 
on  earth  ?  No,  beloved,  your  own  experience  shall  supply 
my  lack.  I  will  only  say  that  there  are  times  when  the  Lord 
Jesus  saith  unto  his  beloved,  "  Come,  my  beloved,  let  us  go 
forth  into  the  field ;  let  us  lodge  in  the  villages.  Let  us  get 
up  early  to  the  vineyards ;  let  us  see  if  the  vine  flourish, 
whether  the  tender  grape  appear,  and  the  pomegranates  bud 
forth :  there  will  I  give  thee  ray  loves."  But  what  must  be 
the  fellowship  of  heaven  ?  I  fail  to-night  in  attempting  to  talk 
to  you  of  the  best  wine,  for  this  8im])le  reason — I  believe  there 
are  very  few  men  that  can  preach  of  heaven  so  as  to  interest  you 
much,  for  you  feel  that  all  we  can  say  is  so  far  behind  the  re- 
ality, that  we  might  as  well  have  let  it  alone.  Baxter  might 
write  a  SainVs  liest^  but  I  am  no  Baxter — would  God  I  were  I 
The  day  may  come,  perhaps,  when  I  may  talk  more  copiously 

13* 


298  THE  FEAST  OP  THE  LOED. 

of  these  blessings ;  but  at  present,  in  ray  own  soul,  when  I  be- 
gin to  talk  of  communion  of  heaven,  I  seem  overcome,  I  can 
not  imagine  it ;  for  the  next  thought  that  always  succeeds  my 
first  attempt  to  think  of  it,  is  a  thought  of  overwhelming  grati- 
tude, coupled  with  a  kind  of  fear  that  this  is  too  good  for  such 
an  unworthy  worm  as  I.  It  was  a  privilege  for  John  to  put 
his  head  on  the  Master's  bosom,  but  that  is  nothing  compared 
with  the  privilege  of  lying  in  his  embrace  for  ever.  Oh  !  we 
must  wait  until  we  get  there,  and  as  one  of  old  said,  "  In  five 
minutes  you  shall  know  more  of  heaven  than  I  could  tell  you 
in  all  my  life."  It  needs  but  that  w^e  should  see  our  Lord,  that 
we  should  fly  into  his  arms,  that  we  should  feel  his  embrace, 
that  we  should  fall  at  his  feet,  and,  was  I  about  to  say,  weep 
for  joy  ?  No,  that  were  impossible,  but  lie  there,  as  it  were, 
dissolved  away  in  ecstasy — to  feel  that  we  at  least  have  arrived 
in  that  dear  place  which  he  has  spoken  to  us  of  when  he  said ; 
"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  ;  ye  believe  in  God,  believe 
also  in  me ;  in  my  Father's  house  there  are  many  mansions ; 
if  it  were  not  so  I  would  have  told  you ;  I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you."  Truly  he  hath  kept  the  best  wine  until  the 
last. 

II.  And  now,  what  is  due  Lord's  reason  for  doing  this  ? 
That  was  the  second  point.     Very  briefly. 

.  The  Lord  might  have  given  us  the  best  wine  first,  but  he 
will  not  act  as  the  devil  doth ;  he  will  always  make  a  broad 
distinction  between  his  dealings  and  the  dealings  of  Satan. 

Again,  he  will  not  give  us  the  best  wine  first,  because  that 
is  not  his  good  pleasure.  "  Fear  not,  little  flock,  it»  is  your 
Father's  good  j^leasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom."  That  is 
the  only  reason  why  you  will  get  it  at  all ;  and  the  reason  why 
you  do  not  receive  it  now  is  because  it  is  not  your  Father's 
good  pleasure  that  you  should  have  it  JAist  yet. 

Again,  your  Father  doth  not  give  you  the  good  wine  now, 
because  he  is  giving  you  an  appetite  for  it.  At  the  old  feasts 
of  the  Romans,  men  used  to  drink  bitter  things,  and  all  kinds 
of  singula?  and  noxious  mixtures,  to  make  them  thirsty.  Now, 
in  this  world,  God  is,  as  it  were,  making  his  children  thirsty, 
that  they  may  take  deeper  di'aughts  of  heaven.     I  can  not 


THE   FEAST    OP   THE   LORD.  299 

think  that  heaven  would  be  so  sweet  to  me  if  I  had  not  first 
to  dwell  on  earth.  Wlio  knoweth  best  tlie  sweet  of  rest  ? 
Is  it  not  the  laborer  ?  Who  understandeth  best  the  joy  of 
peace?  Is  it  not  the  man  who  hath  dwelt  in  the  land  of  war? 
Who  knoweth  most  the  sweetness  of  joy  ?  Is  it  not  the  man 
who  hath  passed  through  a  world  of  sorrow  ?  Ye  are  having 
your  appetites  sharpened  by  these  trials;  ye  are  being  made 
ready  to  receive  the  fullness  of  joy  that  is  in  the  presence  of 
God  for  ever. 

Again,  the  Lord  hath  this  also  in  view.  He  is  making  you 
fit  for  the  best  wine,  that  he  may  be  glorified  by  the  trial  of 
your  faith.  If  it  were  in  my  power  to  go  to  heaven  to-night, 
and  I  could  enter  there,  yet  if  I  should  have  a  suspicion  that 
there  was  more  to  do  or  more  to  suffer  here,  I  w^ould  infinitely 
prefer  to  wait  my  Father's  time;  because,  methinks,  in  heaven 
we  shall  bless  God  for  all  we  have  sufi*ered.  When  it  is  all 
over,  how  sweet  it  will  be  to  talk  of  it !  When  you  and  I 
shall  meet  each  other  in  the  streets  of  heaven — and  there  be 
some  of  you  that  have  had  but  few  trials,  but  few  doubtings 
and  fearings,  and  tribulations  and  conflicts — you  will  talk  of 
how  God  delivered  you  ;  but  you  will  not  be  able  to  talk  as 
some  of  the  tried  saints  will.  Ah  !  what  sweet  stories  some 
of  them  will  tell !  I  should  like  to  go  by  the  side  of  Jonah, 
and  hear  how  he  went  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  mountains, 
and  how  he  thouglit  the  earth  with  her  bars  was  about  him 
for  ever.  And  Jeremiah — I  often  think  what  a  deal  we  shall 
get  out  of  Jeremiah  in  eternity — what  he  will  have  to  tell, 
who  took  such  plunges  into  the  sea  of  sorrow  I  And  David, 
too,  the  sweet  Psalmist,  so  full  of  experience,  he  will  never 
have  done  talking  of  what  the  Lord  has  done  for  him  !  And 
I  think  you  and  I,  when  we  get  to  heaven,  will  have  enough 
to  think  of.  As  a  poor  woman  once  said,  when  she  was  in 
great  doubt  and  fear  whether  she  should  be  saved  at  all ;  she 
said  in  her  prayer,  "  Lord,  if  thou  wilt  save  me,  only  one 
thing  I  can  promise  thee.  If  thou  wilt  take  me  to  heaven 
thou  shalt  never  hear  the  last  of  it,  for  I  will  praise  thee  while 
immortality  lasts,  and  I  will  tell  the  angels  that  ho  saved  me." 
And  this  is  the  constant  burden  of  heaven.     They  are  each 


300  THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD. 

one  wondering  that  he  is  there.  Beloved,  if  we  did  not  have 
to  pass  through  these  trials  and  troubles,  and  these  soul  con- 
flicts, and  such  like,  we  should  have  very  little  to  talk  about 
in  heaven.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  babes  in  Paradise  are  as 
happy  as  the  rest,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  a  babe  in  Paradise. 
I  bless  God  I  did  not  go  to  heaven  when  an  infant :  I  shall 
have  the  more  to  praise  God  for,  when  I  shall  look  back 
through  a  life  of  mercies,  a  life  of  trials,  and  yet  a  life  of  sus- 
taining grace.  There  will  be  a  louder  song,  because  the 
deeper  have  been  our  troubles.  These,  I  think,  are  some  of 
God's  reasons. 

in.  And  now,  dear  brethren  and  sisters,  what  shall  I  say 
about  the  lesson  we  are  to  learn  from  this  fact  of  Christ 
keeping  the  best  wine  until  now  ?  Going  home  the  other 
night  I  noticed  the  difference  between  the  horse's  pace  in  com- 
ing here  and  going  home,  and  I  thought  to  myself,  "  Ah  !  the 
horse  goes  well,  because  he  is  going  home ;"  and  the  thought 
struck  me,  "  How  well  a  Christian  ought  to  go,  because  he  is 
going  home."  You  know,  if  we  were  going  from  home, 
every  rough  stone  in  the  road  might  check  us,  and  we  might 
need  a  good  deal  of  whip  to  make  us  go.  But  it  is  going 
home.  Bless  God,  every  step  we  take  is  going  home.  It  may 
be  knee-deep  in  trouble,  but  it  is  all  on  the  road  ;  we  may  be 
ankle-deep  in  fear,  but  it  is  going  home;  I  may  stumble,  but  I 
always  stumble  homeward.  All  my  afflictions  and  griefs,  when 
they  cast  me  down,  but  cast  me  onward  toward  heaven.  The 
mariner  does  not  mind  the  waves,  if  every  wave  sends  him 
nearer  his  haven,  and  he  does  not  care  how  loudly  howl  the 
winds,  if  they  only  blow  him  nearer  port.  That  is  the  Chris- 
tian's happy  lot :  he  is  going  homeward.  Let  that  cheer  thee, 
Christian,  and  make  thee  travel  on  joyfully,  not  needing  the 
whip  to  urge  thee  to  duty,  but  always  going  on  with  alacrity 
through  duty  and  through  trial,  because  thou  art  going  home- 
ward. 

Again,  if  we  have  the  best  things  to  come,  dear  friends,  do 
not  let  us  be  discontented.  Let  us  put  up  with  a  few  of  the 
bad  things  now,  for  they  only  seem  to  be  so.  A  traveler  who 
is  on  a  journev  in  a  hurry,  if  he  has  to  stay  for  a  night  at  an 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD.  301 

inn,  he  may  grumble  a  little  at  the  want  of  accommodation, 
but  he  does  not  say  very  much,  because  he  is  off  to-morrow , 
he  is  only  stopping  a  short  time  at  the  inn  ;  he  says,  "  I  shall 
get  home  to-morrow  night,"  and  then  he  thinks  of  the  joys  of 
home,  and  does  not  care  about  the  discomforts  of  his  hard 
journey.  You  and  I  are  travelers.  It  will  soon  be  over. 
We  may  have  had  but  a  very  few  shillings  a  week  compared 
with  our  neighbor,  but  we  shall  be  equal  with  him  when  we 
get  there.  He  may  iiave  had  a  large  house,  with  a  great  many 
rooms,  while  we  had,  it  may  be,  only  one  upper  room  ;  ah  !  we 
shall  have  as  large  a  mansion  as  he  in  Paradise.  We  shall 
soon  be  at  the  journey's  end,  and  then  the  road  will  not  sig-* 
nify,  so  long  as  we  have  got  there.  Come !  let  us  put  up  with 
these  few  inconveniences  on  the  road,  for  the  best  wine  is 
coming  ;  let  us  pour  away  all  the  vinegar  of  murmuring,  for 
the  best  wine  shall  come. 

Once  more :  if  the  Christian  has  the  best  wine  to  come, 
why  should  he  envy  the  worldling  ?  David  did  ;  he  was  dis- 
contented  when  he  saw  the  prosperity  of  the  wicked,  and  you 
and  I  are  often  tempted  to  do  it ;  but  you  know  what  we 
ought  to  say  when  we  see  the  wicked  prosper,  when  we  see 
them  happy,  and  full  of  delights  of  sinful  pleasure.  We  ought 
to  say,  "  Ah !  my  good  wine  is  to  come ;  I  can  bear  that  you 
should  have  your  turn  ;  my  turn  will  come  afterwards ;  I  can 
be  put  off  with  these  things,  and  lie  with  Lazarus  at  the  gate, 
while  the  dogs  Hck  my  sores ;  my  turn  is  to  come,  when  the 
angels  shall  carry  me  into  Abraham's  bosom,  and  your  turn  is 
to  come  too,  when  in  hell  you  lift  up  your  eyes,  being  in  tor- 
ments." 

Christian,  what  more  shall  I  say  to  thee  ? — though  there  be 
a  thousand  lessons  to  learn  from  this,  that  the  best  wine  is  kept 
to  the  last.  "  Take  heed  to  thyself,  that  thou  also  keepest  thy 
good  wine  until  the  last.  The  further  thou  goest  on  the  road, 
seek  to  bring  to  thy  Saviour  the  more  acceptable  sacrifice. 
Thou  hadst  little  faith  years  ago :  man !  biing  out  the  good 
wine  now !  Seek  to  have  more  faith.  Thy  Master  is  better 
to  thee  every  day,  and  thou  shalt  see  him  to  be  the  best  of  all 
masters  and  friends.     Seek  to  be  better  to  thy  Master  every 


302  THE  FEAST  OF  THE  LORD. 

day ;  be  more  generous  to  his  cause,  more  active  to  labor  for 
him,  more  kind  to  his  people,  more  diligent  in  prayer ;  and 
take  heed  that  as  thou  growest  in  years  thou  growest  in  grace, 
so  that  when  thou  coraest  at  last  to  the  river  Jordan,  and  the 
Master  shall  give  thee  the  best  wine,  thou  mayest  also  give  to 
him  the  best  wine,  and  praise  him  most  loudly  when  the  bat- 
tle shall  just  be  over,  and  when  the  whirlwind  is  dying  away 
into  the  everlasting  peace  of  Paradise." 

And  now,  dear  friends,  I  am  conscious  that  I  have  totally 
failed  in  endeavoring  to  bring  forth  this  good  wine ;  but  it  is 
written  that  God  hath  revealed  it  unto  us  by  his  Spirit,  but 
that  ear  hath  not  heard  it.  Now,  if  I  had  told  it  to  you  to- 
night your  ear  would  have  heard  it,  and  the  text  would  not 
have  been  true  ;  and  as  I  have  unwittingly  proved  the  truth 
of  this  Scripture,  I  can  not  be  very  sorry  at  having  helped  to 
witness  the  truth  of  my  Master's  word.  Only  this  I  say — the 
nearer  you  live  to  Christ  the  nearer  you  will  be  to  heaven,  for 
if  there  is  one  place  next  door  to  Pisgah  it  is  Calvary.  It  may 
seem  strange,  but  if  you  live  much  on  Calvary  you  live  very 
near  Nebo  ;  for  although  Moses  may  have  seen  Canaan  from 
Nebo,  I  have  never  seen  heaven  anywhere  but  close  to  Cal- 
vary. When  I  have  seen  my  Saviour  crucified,  then  I  have 
seen  him  glorified  ;  when  I  have  read  my  name  written  in  his 
blood,  then  I  have  seen  afterward  my  mansion  which  he  has 
prepared  for  me.  When  I  have  seen  my  sins  washed  away, 
then  I  have  seen  the  white  robe  that  I  am  to  wear  for  ever. 
Live  near  to  the  Saviour,  man,  and  you  shall  not  be  very  far 
off  heaven.  Recollect,  after  all,  it  is  not  far  to  heaven.  It  is 
only  one  gentle  sigh,  and  we  are  there.  We  talk  of  it  as  a 
land  very  far  off,  but  close  it  is,  and  who  knows  but  that  the 
spirits  of  the  just  are  here  to-night  ?  Heaven  is  close  to  us  ; 
we  can  not  tell  where  it  is,  but  this  we  know,  that  it  is  not  a 
far  off  land.  It  is  so  near,  that,  swifter  than  thought,  we  shall 
be  there,  emancipated  from  our  care  and  woe,  and  blessed  for 
ever. 


SERMON    XIX. 
THE    BLOOD. 

"  When  I  see  the  blood,  I  will  pass  over  you." — Exodus,  xii.  13. 

God's  people  are  always  safe.  "All  the  saints  are  in  his 
hand ;"  and  the  hand  of  God  is  a  place  of  safety,  as  well  as  a 
place  of  honor.  Nothing  can  hurt  the  man  who  has  made  his 
refuge  God.  "  Thou  hast  given  commandment  to  save  me," 
said  David ;  and  every  believing  child  of  God  may  say  the 
same.  Plague,  famine,  war,  tempest — all  these  have  received 
commandment  of  God  to  save  his  people.  Though  the  earth 
should  rock  beneath  the  feet  of  man,  yet  the  Christian  may 
stand  fast,  and  though  the  heavens  should  be  rolled  up,  and 
the  firmament  should  pass  away  like  a  scroll  that  is  burned  by 
fervent  heat,  yet  need  not  a  Christian  fear  ;  God's  peoj^le  shall 
be  saved :  if  they  can  not  be  saved  under  the  heavens,  they 
shall  be  saved  in  the  heavens ;  if  there  be  no  safety  for  them 
in  the  time  of  trouble  upon  this  solid  earth,  they  sliall  be 
"  caught  up  together  with  the  Lord  in  the  air,  and  so  shall 
they  be  ever  with  the  Lord,"  and  ever  safe. 

Now,  at  the  time  of  which  this  book  of  Exodus  speaks, 
Egypt  was  exposed  to  a  terrible  peril.  Jehovah  himself  was 
about  to  march  through  the  streets  of  all  the  cities  of  Egypt. 
It  was  not  merely  a  destroying  angel,  but  Jehovah  himself; 
for  thus  it  is  written,  "  I  will  pass  tlnough  the  land  of  Egypt 
this  night,  and  will  smite  all  the  first-born  in  the  land  of 
Egypt,  both  man  and  beast."  No  one  less  than  I  AM,  the 
great  God,  had  vowed  to  "  cut  Rahab"  with  the  sword  of 
vengeance.  Tremble,  ye  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  for  God 
has  come  down  among  you,  provoked,  incensed,  and  at  last 
awakened  from  his  seeming  sleep  of  patience.  He  has  girded 
on  his  terrible  sword,  and  he  has  come  to  smite  you.     Quake 


304  THE   BLOOD. 

for  fear,  all  ye  that  have  sin  within  yon,  for  when  God  walks 
through  the  streets,  sword  in  hand,  will  he  not  smite  you  all? 
But  hark  !  the  voice  of  covenant  mercy  speaks.  God's  children 
are  safe,  even  though  an  angry  God  be  in  the  streets.  As 
they  are  safe  from  the  rod  of  the  wicked,  so  are  they  safe  from 
the  sword  of  justice — always  and  ever  safe ;  for  there  was  not 
a  hair  of  the  bead  of  an  Israelite  that  was  so  much  as  touched ; 
Jehovah  kept  them  safe  beneath  his  wings.  While  he  did 
rend  his  enemies  like  a  lion,  yet  he  did  protect  his  children, 
every  one  of  them.  But,  beloved,  while  this  is  always  true, 
that  God's  people  are  safe,  there  is  another  fact  that  is  equally 
true,  namely,  that  God's  people  are  only  safe  through  the  blood. 
The  reason  why  God  spares  his  people  in  the  time  of  calamity 
is,  because  he  sees  the  blood-mark  on  their  brow.  What  is 
the  basis  of  that  great  truth,  that  all  things  work  together  for 
good  to  them  that  love  God  ?  What  is  the  cause  that  all 
things  so  produce  good  to  them,  but  this,  that  they  are  bought 
with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ  ?  Therefore  it  is  that  nothing 
can  hurt  them,  because  the  hlood  is  upon  them,  and  every  evil 
thing  must  pass  them  by.  It  was  so  that  night  in  Egypt. 
God  himself  was  abroad  with  his  sword ;  but  he  spared  them, 
because  he  saw  the  blood-mark  on  the  lintel  and  on  the  two 
side-posts.  And  so  it  is  with  us.  In  the  day  when  God  in 
his  fierce  anger  shall  come  forth  from  his  dwelling-place,  to 
affright  the  earth  with  terrors  and  to  condemn  the  wicked,  we 
shall  be  secure,  if,  covered  with  the  Saviour's  righteousness, 
and  sprinkled  with  his  blood,  we  are  found  in  him. 

Do  I  hear  some  one  say  that  I  am  now  coming  to  an  old 
subject  ?  This  thought  struck  me  when  I  was  preparing  for 
preaching,  that  I  should  have  to  tell  you  an  old  story  over 
again ;  and  just  as  I  was  thinking  of  that,  happening  to  turn 
over  a  book,  I  met  with  an  anecdote  of  Judson  the  missionary 
to  Burmah.  He  had  passed  through  unheard-of  hardships, 
and  had  performed  dangerous  exploits  for  his  Master.  He 
returned,  after  thirty  years'  absence,  to  America.  "  Announced 
to  address  an  assembly  in  a  provincial  town,  and  a  vast  con- 
course having  gathered  fx'om  great  distances  to  hear  him,  he 
rose  at  the  close  of  the  usual  service,  and,  as  all  eyes  were 


THE  BLOOD.  305 

fixed  and  every  ear  attent,  he  spoke  for  about  fifteen  minutes, 
with  much  pathos,  of  the  precious  Saviour,  of  what  he  had 
done  for  us,  and  of  what  we  owed  to  him ;  and  he  sat  down, 
visibly  affected."  "  The  people  are  very  much  disappointed," 
said  a  friend  to  him  on  their  way  home ;  "  they  wonder  you 
did  not  talk  of  something  else.'*^  "  Why  what  did  the  want  ?" 
he  replied  :  "  I  presented,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  the  most 
interesting  subject  iu  the  world."  "  But  they  wanted  some- 
thing different — a  story."  "  "Well,  I  am  sure  I  gave  them  a 
story — the  most  thrilling  one  that  can  be  conceived  of."  "  But 
they  had  heard  it  before.  They  wanted  something  new  of  a 
man  who  had  just  come  from  the  antipodes."  "Then  I  am 
glad  they  have  it  to  say,  that  a  man  coming  from  the  antipodes 
had  nothing  better  to  tell  them  than  the  wondrous  story  of 
the  dying  love  of  Jesus.  My  business  is  to  preach  the  gospel 
of  Christ;  and  when  I  can  speak  at  all,  I  dare  not  trifle  with 
my  commission.  When  I  looked  upon  those  people  to-day, 
and  remembered  where  I  should  next  meet  them,  how  could  I 
stand  up  and  furnish  food  to  vain  curiosity — tickle  their  fancy 
with  amusing  stories,  however  decently  strung  together  on  a 
thread  of  religion  ?  That  is  not  what  Christ  meant  by  preach- 
ing the  gospel.  And  then  how  could  I  hereafter  meet  the  fear- 
ful charge, '  I  gave  you  one  opportunity  to  tell  them  of  ME  ;  you 
spent  it  in  describing  your  own  adventures  !' "  So  I  thought. 
Well,  if  Judson  told  the  old  story  after  he  had  been  thirty 
years  away,  and  could  not  find  any  thing  better,  I  will  just  go 
back  to  this  old  subject,  which  is  always  new  and  always  fresh 
to  us — the  precioics  blood  of  Christ,  by  which  we  are  saved. 

Fii-st,  then,  tJie  blood ;  secondly,  its  efficacy ;  thirdly,  the 
one  condition  appended  to  it: — "  When  jT see  the  blood  ;  and 
fourthly,  the  pra,ctical  lesson. 

I.  First,  then,  the  blood  itself.  In  the  case  of  the 
Israelites,  it  was  the  blood  of  the  paschal  lamb.  In  our  case, 
beloved,  it  is  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  of  God  which  taketh 
away  the  sins  of  the  world. 

1.  The  blood  of  which  I  have  solemnly  to  speak  this  morn- 
ing, is,  first  of  all,  the  blood  of  a  dimnely  appointed  victim. 
Jesus  Christ  did  not  come  into  this  world  unappointed.    He 


306  THE   BLOOD. 

was  sent  here  by  his  Father.  This  indeed,  is  one  of  the  under- 
lying groundworks  of  the  Christian's  hope.  We  can  rely 
upon  Jesus  Christ's  acceptance  by  his  Father,  because  his 
Father  ordained  him  to  be  our  Saviour  from  before  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world.  Sinner !  when  I  preach  to  thee  the 
blood  of  Christ  this  morning,  I  am  preaching  something  that 
is  well  pleasing  to  God ;  for  God  himself  did  choose  Christ  to 
be  the  Redeemer ;  he  himself  set  him  apart  from  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world,  and  he  himself,  even  Jehovah  the 
Father,  did  lay  upon  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all.  The  sacrifice 
of  Christ  is  not  brought  to  you  without  warrant ;  it  is  not  a 
something  which  Christ  did  surreptitiously  and  in  secret ;  it 
was  written  in  the  great  decree  from  all  eternity,  that  he  was 
the  Lamb  slain  from  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  As 
he  himself  said,  "  Lo,  I  come  ;  in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is 
written  of  me,  I  delight  to  do  thy  will^  O  God."  It  is  God's 
will  that  the  blood  of  Jesus  should  be  shed.  Jesus  is  God's 
chosen  Saviour  for  men  ;  and  here,  when  addressing  the  un- 
godly, here,  I  say,  is  one  potent  argument  with  them.  Sinner ! 
you  may  trust  in  Christ,  that  he  is  able  to  save  you  from  the 
wrath  of  God,  for  God  himself  has  appointed  him  to  save. 

2.  Christ  Jesus,  too,  like  the  lamb,  was  not  only  a  divinely 
appointed  victim,  but  he  was  spotless.  Had  there  been  one 
sin  in  Christ,  he  had  not  been  capable  of  being  our  Saviour ; 
but  he  was  without  spot  or  blemish — without  original  sin, 
without  any  practical  transgression.  "  In  him  was  no  sin, 
though  he  was  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are."  Here, 
again,  is  the  reason  why  the  blood  is  able  to  save,  because  it 
is  the  blood  of  an  innocent  victim,  a  victim,  the  only  reason 
for  whose  death  lay  in  us,  and  not  in  himself.  When  the  poor 
innocent  lamb  was  put  to  death,  by  the  head  of  the  household 
of  Egypt,  I  can  imagine  that  thoughts  like  these  ran  through 
his  mind.  "  Ah !"  he  would  say,  as  he  struck  the  knife  into 
the  lamb,  "this  poor  creature  dies,  not  for  any  guilt  that  it 
has  ever  had,  but  to  show  me  that  I  am  guilty,  and  that  I  de- 
serve to  die  like  this."  Turn,  then,  your  eye  to  the  cross,  and 
see  Jesus  bleeding  there  and  dying  for  you.  Remember, 
"  Tor  sins  not  his  own,  he  died  to  atone :" 


THE    BLOOD.  307 

sin  had  no  foot-hold  in  him,  never  troubled  hira.  The  prince 
of  this  world  came  and  looked,  but  he  said,  "  I  have  nothing 
in  Christ ;  there  is  no  room  for  me  to  plant  my  foot — no  piece 
of  corrupt  ground  which  I  may  call  my  own."  O  sinner,  the 
blood  of  Jesus  is  able  to  save  thee,  because  he  was  perfectly 
innocent  himself,  and  "he  died,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  to 
bring  us  to  God." 

But  some  will  say,  "  Whence  has  the  blood  of  Christ  sucn 
power  to  save  ?"  My  reply  is,  not  only  because  God  appoint- 
ed that  blood,  and  because  it  was  the  blood  of  an  innocent  and 
spotless  being,  but  because  Christ  himself  was  God.  If  Christ 
were  a  mere  man,  my  hearers,  you  could  not  be  exhorted  to 
trust  him;  were  he  ever  so  spotless  and  holy,  there  would  be 
no  efficacy  in  his  blood  to  save ;  but  Christ  was  "  very  God  of 
very  God ;"  the  blood  that  Jesus  shed  was  Godlike  blood. 
It  was  the  blood  of  man,  for  he  was  man  like  ourselves ;  but 
the  divinity  was  so  allied  with  the  manhood,  that  the  blood 
derived  efficacy  from  it.  Can  you  imagine  what  must  be  the 
value  of  the  blood  of  God's  own  dear  Son?  No,  you  can  not 
put  an  estimate  upon  it  that  should  so  much  as  reach  to  a 
millionth  part  of  its  preciousness.  I  know  you  esteem  that 
blood  as  beyond  all  price  if  you  have  been  washed  in  it ;  but 
I  know  also  that  you  do  not  esteen  it  enough.  It  was  the 
wonder  of  angels  that  God  should  condescend  to  die ;  it  will 
be  the  wonder  of  all  wonders,  the  unceasing  wonder  of  eter- 
nity, that  God  should  become  man  to  die.  Oh !  when  we 
think  that  Christ  was  Creator  of  the  world,  and  that  on  his 
all-sustaining  shoulders  did  hang  the  universe,  we  can  not  won- 
der that  his  death  is  mighty  to  redeem,  and  that  his  blood 
should  cleanse  from  sin.  Come  hither,  saints  and  sinners ; 
gather  in  and  crowd  around  the  cross,  and  see  this  man,  over- 
come with  weakness,  fainting,  groaning,  bleeding  and  dying. 
This  man  is  also  "  God  over  all,  blessed  for  ever."  Is  there 
not  power  to  save  ?  Is  there  not  efficacy  in  blood  like  that  ? 
Can  you  imagine  any  stretch  of  sin  which  shall  out-measure 
the  power  of  divinity — any  height  of  iniquity  that  shall  over- 
top the  topless  steeps  of  the  divine?  Can  I  conceive  a  depth 
of  sin  that  shall  be  deeper  than  the  Infinite  ?  or  a  breadth  of 


308  THE    BLOOD. 

iniquity  that  shall  be  broader  than  the  Godhead  ?  Because 
he  is  divine,  he  is  "  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost,  them  that 
come  unto  God  by  him."  Divinely  appointed,  spotless,  and 
divine,  his  blood  is  the  blood  whereby  ye  may  escape .  the 
anger  and  the  wrath  of  God. 

4.  Once  more;  the  blood  of  which  we  speak  to-day,  is  blood 
once  shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sin.  The  paschal  lamb 
was  killed  every  year ;  but  now  Christ  hath  appeared  to  take 
away  sin  by  the  offering  up  of  himself,  and  there  is  now  no 
more  mention  of  sin,  for  Christ  once  for  all  hath  put  away  sin, 
by  the  offering  of  himself.  The  Jew  had  the  lamb  every 
morning  and  every  evening,  for  there  was  a  continual  mention 
of  sin  ;  the  blood  of  the  lamb  could  not  take  it  away.  The 
lamb  availed  for  to-day,  but  there  was  the  sin  of  to-morrow, 
what  was  to  be  done  with  that  ?  Why,  a  fresh  victim  must 
bleed.  But  oh,  my  hearer,  our  greatest  joy  is,  that  the  blood 
of  Jesus  has  been  once  shed,  and  he  has  said,  "It  is  finished." 
There  is  no  more  need  of  the  blood  of  bulls  or  of  goats,  or  of 
any  other  sacrifice  ;  that  one  sacrifice  hath  "  perfected  for  ever 
them  that  are  sanctified."  Trembling  sinner!  come  to  the 
cross  again  ;  thy  sins  are  heavy  and  many ;  but  the  atonement 
for  them  is  completed  by  the  death  of  Christ.  Look  then  to 
Jesus,  and  remember  that  Christ  needs  nothing  to  supplement 
his  blood.  The  road  between  God  and  man  is  finished  and 
open  ;  the  robe  to  cover  thy  nakedness  is  complete,  without  a 
rag  of  thine ;  the  bath  in  which  thou  art  to  be  washed  is  full, 
full  to  the  brim,  and  needs  nothing  to  be  added  thereunto. 
"  It  is  finished  !"  Let  that  ring  in  thy  ears.  There  is  nothing 
now  that  can  hinder  thy  being  saved,  if  God  hath  made  thee 
willing  now  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  a  complete 
Saviour,  full  of  grace  for  an  empty  sinner. 

5.  And  yet  I  must  add  one  more  thought,  and  then  leave 
this  point.  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  is  blood  that  hath  been 
accepted.  Christ  died — he  was  buried;  but  neither  heaven 
nor  earth  could  tell  whether  God  had  accepted  the  ransom. 
There  was  wanted  God's  seal  upon  the  great  Magna  Charta 
of  man's  salvation,  and  that  seal  was  put,  my  hearer,  in  that 
hour  when  God  summoned  the  angel,  and  bade  him  descend 


THE    BLOOD.  309 

from  heaven  and  roll  away  the  stone.  Christ  was  put  in  dur- 
ance vile  in  the  prison-house  of  the  grave,  and  as  a  hostage 
for  his  people.  Until  God  had  signed  the  warrant  for  the  ac- 
quittal of  all  his  people,  Christ  must  abide  in  the  bonds  of  death. 
He  did  not  attempt  to  break  his  prison  ;  he  did  not  come  out 
illegally,  by  wrenching  dow^n  the  bars  of  his  dungeon ;  he  wait- 
ed ;  he  wrapped  up  the  napkin,  folded  it  by  itself;  he  laid  the 
grave-clothes  in  a  separate  place ;  he  waited,  waited  patiently ; 
and  at  last  down  from  the  skies,  like  the  flash  of  a  meteor,  the 
angel  descended,  touched  the  stone  and  rolled  it  away ;  and 
when  Christ  came  out,  rising  from  the  dead  in  the  glory  of 
his  Father's  power,  then  was  the  seal  put  upon  the  great 
charta  of  our  redemption.  Tlie  blood  was  accepted,  and  sin 
was  forgiven.  And  now,  soul,  it  is  not  possible  for  God  to 
reject  thee,  if  thou  comest  this  day  to  him,  pleading  the  blood 
of  Christ.  God  can  not — and  here  we  speak  with  reverence 
too — the  everlasting  God  can  not  reject  a  sinner  who  pleads 
the  blood  of  Christ :  for  if  he  did  so,  it  were  to  deny  him- 
self, and  to  contradict  all  his  former  acts.  He  has  accepted 
blood,  and  he  icill  accept  it ;  he  never  can  revoke  that  divine 
acceptance  of  the  resurrection ;  and  if  thou  goest  to  God,  my 
Ijearcr,  pleading  simply  and  only  the  blood  of  hini  that  did 
hang  upon  the  tree,  God  must  un-God  himself  before  he  can 
reject  thee,  or  reject  that  blood. 

And  yet  I  fear  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  make  you  think 
of  the  blood  of  Christ.  I  beseech  you,  then,  just  for  a  mo- 
ment try  to  picture  to  yourself  Christ  on  the  cross.  Let  your 
imagination  figure  the  motley  crew  assembled  round  about 
that  little  hill  of  Calvary.  Lift  now  your  eyes,  and  see  the 
three  crosses  put  upon  that  rising  knoll.  See  in  the  center 
the  thorn-crowned  brow  of  Christ.  Do  you  see  the  hands 
that  have  always  been  full  of  blessing  nailed  fast  to  the  ac- 
cursed wood  ?  See  you  his  dear  face,  more  marred  than  that 
of  any  other  man  ?  Do  you  see  it  now,  as  his  head  bows  on 
his  bosom  in  the  extreme  agonies  of  death  ?  He  was  a  real 
man,  remember.  It  was  a  real  cross.  Do  not  think  of  these 
things  as  figments,  and  fancies,  and  romances.  There  was 
saoh  a  being,  and  he  died  as  I  describe  it.    Let  your  imagip 


310  THE    BLOOD. 

nation  picture  him,  and  then  sit  still  a  moment  and  think  over 
this  thought :  "  The  blood  of  that  man,  whom  now  I  behold 
dying  in  agony,  must  be  my  redemption  ;  and  if  I  would  be 
saved,  I  must  put  my  only  trust  in  what  he  suffered  for  me, 
when  he  himself  did  '  bear  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the 
tree.' "  If  God  the  Holy  Spirit  should  help  you,  you  will  then 
be  in  a  right  state  to  proceed  to  the  second  point. 

II.  The  EFFicAcic  of  this  blood.  "When  I  see  the 
blood  I  will  pass  over- you." 

1.  The  blood  of  Christ  hath  such  a  divine  power  to  save, 
that  nothing  hut  it  can  ever  save  the  soul.  If  some  foolish  Is- 
raelite had  despised  the  command  of  God,  and  had  said,  "  I 
will  sprinkle  something  else  upon  the  door-posts,"  or  "  I  will 
adorn  the  lintel  with  jewels  of  gold  and  silver,"  he  must  have 
perished  ;  nothing  could  save  his  household  but  the  sprinkled 
blood.  And  now  let  us  all  remember,  that  "  other  foundation 
can  no  man  lay  than  that  which  is  laid,  Jesus  Christ,"  for 
"there  is  none  other  name  given  among  men  whereby  we  must 
be  saved."  My  works,  my  prayers,  my  tears,  can  not  save 
me  ;  the  bloody  the  blood  alone,  has  power  to  redeem.  Sacra- 
ments, however  well  they  may  be  attended  to,  can  not  save 
me.  Nothing  but  thy  blood,  O  Jesus,  can  redeem  me  from 
the  guilt  of  sin.  Though  I  should  give  rivers  of  oil,  and  ten 
thousands  of  the  fat  of  fed  beasts  ;  yea,  though  I  should  give 
my  first-born  for  my  transgressions,  the  fruit  of  my  body  for 
the  sin  of  my  soul,  all  would  be  useless.  Kothing  but  the 
blood  of  Jesus  has  in  it  the  slightest  saving  power.  Oh  I  you 
that  are  trusting  in  your  baptism,  your  confirmation,  and  your 
Lord's  Supper,  you  are  trusting  in  a  lie.  Nothing  but  the 
blood  of  Jesus  can  save.  I  care  not  how  right  the  ordinance, 
how  true  the  form,  how  scrij^tural  the  practice,  it  is  all  a  van- 
ity to  you  if  you  rely  on  it.  God  forbid  I  should  say  a  word 
against  ordinances,  or  against  holy  things ;  but  keep  them  in 
their  places.  If  you  make  them  the  basis  of  your  soul's  sal- 
vation, they  are  lighter  than  a  shadow,  and  when  you  need 
them  most  you  shall  find  them  fail  you.  There  is  not,  I  re- 
peat it  again,  the  slightest  atom  of  saving  power  anywhere  but 
in  the  blood  of  Jesus.    That  blood  has  the  only  power  to  save, 


THE  BLOOD.  311 

and  aught  else  that  you  rely  upon  shall  be  a  refuge  of  lies. 
This  is  the  rock,  and  this  is  the  work  that  is  perfect ;  but  all 
other  things  are  day-dreams  ;  they  must  be  swept  away  in  the 
day  when  God  shall  come  to  try  our  work  of  what  sort  it  is. 
TIIE  BLOOD  stands  out  in  solitary  majesty,  the  only  rock 
of  our  salvation. 

2.  This  blood  is  not  simply  the  only  thing  that  can  save,  but 
it  must  save  alone.  Put  any  thing  with  the  blood  of  Christ, 
and  you  are  lost ;  trust  to  any  thing  else  with  this,  and  you 
perish.  "  It  is  true,"  says  one,  "  that  the  Sacrament  can  not 
save  me,  but  I  will  trust  in  that,  and  in  Christ  too."  You  are 
a  lost  man,  then.  So  jealous  is  Christ  of  his  honor,  that  any 
thing  you  put  with  him,  however  good  it  is,  becomes,  from  the 
fact  of  your  putting  it  with  him,  an  accursed  thing.  And 
what  is  it  thou  wouldst  put  with  Christ  ?  Thy  good  works  ? 
What !  wilt  thou  yoke  a  reptile  with  an  angel — yoke  thyself 
to  the  chariot  of  salvation  with  Christ  ?  What  are  thy  good 
works  ?  Thy  righteousnesses  are  "  as  filthy  rags  ;"  and  shall 
filthy  rags  be  joined  to  the  spotless,  celestial  righteousness  of 
Christ?  It  must  not,  and  it  shall  not  be.  Rely  on  Jesus 
only,  and  thou  canst  not  perish ;  but  rely  on  any  thing  with 
him,  and  thou  art  as  surely  damned  as  if  thou  shouldst  rely 
upon  thy  sins.  Jesus  only — Jesus  only — Jesus  only — this  is 
the  rock  of  our  salvation. 

And  here  let  me  stop,  and  combat  a  few  forms  and  shapes 
which  our  self-righteousness  always  takes.  "  Oh,"  says  one, 
"  I  could  trust  hi  Christ  if  I  felt  my  si?is  more.^^  Sir,  that  is 
a  damning  error.  Is  thy  repentance,  thy  sense  of  sin,  to  be  a 
part  Saviour  ?  Sinner !  the  blood  is  to  save  thee,  not  thy  tears ; 
Christ's  death,  not  thy  repentance.  Thou  art  bidden  this  day 
to  trust  in  Christ ;  not  in  thy  feelings,  not  in  thy  pangs  on  ac- 
count of  sin.  Many  a  man  has  been  brought  into  great  soul 
distress,  because  he  has  looked  more  at  his  repentance  than  at 
the  obedience  of  Christ — 

"  Could  thy  tears  for  ever  flow, 
Could  thy  zeal  no  respite  know ; 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone, 


312  THE  BLOOD. 

"  Nay,"  says  another,  "  but  I  feel  that  I  do  not  value  the 
blood  of  Christ  as  I  ought,  and  therefore  I  am  afraid  to  be- 
lieve." My  friend,  that  is  another  insidious  form  of  the  same 
error,  God  does  not  say,  "  When  I  see  your  estimate  of  the 
blood  of  Christ,  I  will  pass  over  you ;  no,  but  when  I  see  the 
hlood?'*  It  is  not  your  estimate  of  that  blood,  it  is  the  blood 
that  saves  you.  As  I  said  before,  that  magnificent,  solitary 
hlood  must  be  alone. 

"  Nay,"  says  another,  "  but  if  I  had  more  faith  then  I  should 
have  hope."  That,  too,  is  a  very  deadly  shape  of  the  same 
evil.  You  are  not  to  be  saved  by  the  efficacy  of  your  faith, 
but  by  the  efficacy  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  It  is  not  your  be- 
heving,  it  is  Christ's  dying.  I  bid  you  believe,  but  I  bid  you 
not  to  look  to  your  believing  as  the  ground  of  your  salvation. 
No  man  will  go  to  heaven  if  he  trusts  to  his  own  faith ;  you 
may  as  well  trust  to  your  own  good  works  as  trust  to  your 
faith.  Your  faith  must  deal  with  Christ,  not  with  itself  The 
world  hangs  on  nothing ;  but  faith  can  not  hang  upon  itself, 
it  must  hang  on  Christ.  Sometimes,  when  my  faith  is  vigor- 
ous, I  catch  myself  doing  this.  There  is  joy  flowing  into  my 
heart,  and  after  a  while  I  begin  to  find  that  my  joy  suddenly 
departs.  I  ask  the  causes,  and  I  find  that  the  joy  came  be- 
cause I  was  thinking  of  Christ ;  but  when  I  began  to  think 
about  my  joy ^  then  my  joy  fled.  You  must  not  think  of  your 
faith,  but  of  Christ.  Faith  comes  from  meditation  upon  Christ. 
Turn,  then,  your  eye,  not  upon  faith  but  upon  Jesus.  It  is  not 
your  hold  of  Christ  that  saves  you  ;  it  is  his  hold  of  you.  It 
is  not  the  e^cacy  of  your  believing  in  him ;  it  is  the  efficacy 
of  his  blood  applied  to  you  through  the  Spirit. 

I  do  not  know  how  sufficiently  to  follow  Satan  in  all  his 
windings  into  the  human  heart,  but  this  I  know,  he  is  always 
ti  ying  to  keep  back  this  great  truth — the  blood,  and  the  blood 
alone  has  power  to  save.  "  Oh,"  says  another,  "  if  I  had  such 
and  such  an  experience  then  I  could  trust."  Friend,  it  is  not 
thine  experience,  it  is  the  blood.  God  did  not  say,  *'  When  I 
see  your  experience,"  but  "  When  I  see  the  hlood  of  Christ."*^ 
"  Nay,"  says  one,  "  but  if  I  had  such  and  such  graces,  I  could 
hope."     Nay,  but  he  did  not  say,  "  When  I  see  your  graces," 


THE  BLOOD.  813 

but  "  When  I  see  the  hlood:^  Get  grace,  get  as  much  as  you 
can  of  faith,  and  love,  and  hope,  but  oh,  do  not  put  them  where 
Christ's  blood  ought  to  be.  The  only  pillar  of  your  hope  must 
be  the  cross,  and  aught  else  that  you  put  to  buttress  up  the 
cross  of  Christ  is  obnoxious  to  God,  and  ceases  to  have  any 
virtue  in  it,  because  it  is  an  anti-Christ.  The  blood  of  Christ, 
then,  alone,  saves ;  but  any  thing  with  it,  and  it  does  not 
save. 

3.  Yet  again  we  may  say  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  it  is  allr 
stifficient.  There  is  no  case  which  the  blood  of  Christ  can 
not  meet ;  there  is  no  sin  which  it  can  not  wash  away.  There 
is  no  multiplicity  of  sin  which  it  can  not  cleanse,  no  aggrava- 
tion of  guilt  which  it  can  not  remove.  Ye  may  be  double- 
dyed  like  scarlet,  ye  may  have  lain  in  the  lye  of  your  sins 
these  seventy  years,  but  the  blood  of  Christ  can  take  out  the 
stain.  You  may  have  blasphemed  him  almost  as  many  times 
as  you  have  breathed,  you  may  have  rejected  him  as  often  as 
you  have  heard  his.name  ;  you  may  have  broken  his  Sabbath, 
you  may  have  denied  his  existence,  you  may  have  doubted  his 
Godhead,  you  may  have  persecuted  his  servants,  you  may  have 
trampled  on  his  blood  ;  but  all  this  the  blood  can  wash  away. 
You  may  have  committed  whoredoms  without  number,  nay, 
murder  itself  may  have  defiled  your  hands,  but  this  fountain 
filled  with  blood  can  wash  all  the  stains  away.  The  blood  of  Je- 
sus Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin.  There  is  no  sort  of  a  man, 
there  is  no  abortion  of  mankind,  no  demon  in  human  shape 
that  this  blood  can  not  wash.  Hell  may  have  sought  to  make  a 
paragon  of  iniquity,  it  may  have  striven  to  put  sin,  and  sin,  and 
sin  together,  till  it  has  made  a  monster  in  the  shape  of  a  man, 
a  monster  abhorred  of  mankind,  but  the  blood  of  Christ  can 
transform  that  monster.  Magdalen's  seven  devils  it  can  cast 
out,  the  madness  of  the  demoniac  it  can  ease,  the  deep-seated 
leprosy  it  can  cure,  the  wound  of  the  maimed,  yea,  the  lost 
limb  it  can  restore.  There  is  no  spiritual  disease  which  the 
great  Physician  can  not  heal.  This  is  the  great  Catholicon, 
the  medicine  for  all  diseases.  No  case  can  exceed  its  virtue, 
be  it  never  so  black  or  vile  ;  all-sufficient,  all-sufficient  blood. 

4.  But  go  further.   Tlie  blood  of  Christ  saves  surely.   Many 

14 


314  THE  BLOOD, 

people  say,  "  Well,  I  hope  I  shall  be  saved  through  the  blood 
of  Christ ;"  and  perhaps  says  one  here,  who  is  believing  in 
Christ,  "  Well,  I  hope  it  will  save."  My  dear  friend,  that  is  .a 
slur  upon  the  honor  of  God.  If  any  man  gives  you  a  promise 
and  you  say,  "  Well,  I  hope  he  will  fulfill  it ;"  is  it  not  implied 
that  you  have  at  least  some  small  doubt  as  to  whether  he  will 
or  not  ?  Now,  I  do  not  hope  that  the  blood  of  Christ  will 
wash  away  my  sin.  I  know  it  is  washed  away  by  his  blood  ; 
and  that  is  true  faith  which  does  not  hope  about  Christ's 
blood,  but  says,  "  I  know  it  is  so  ;  that  blood  does  cleanse. 
The  moment  it  was  applied  to  my  conscience  it  did  cleunse, 
and  it  does  cleanse  still."  The  Israelite,  if  he  was  true  to  his 
faith,  did  not  go  inside  and  say,  "  I  hope  the  destroying  angel 
will  pass  by  me  ;"  but  he  said,  "  I  know  he  will ;  I  know  God 
can  not  smite  me ;  I  know  he  will  not.  There  is  the  blood- 
mark  there ;  I  am  secure  beyond  a  doubt ;  there  is  not  the 
shadow  of  a  risk  of  my  perishing.  I  am,  I  must  be  saved." 
And  so  I  preach  a  sure  gospel  this- morning :  "Whosoever 
believeth  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  shall  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life."  "  I  give  unto  my  sheep  eternal  life,"  said  he, 
"and  they  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out 
of  my  hand."  O,  sinner,  I  have  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt 
as  to  whether  Christ  will  save  you  if  you  trust  in  his  blood. 

0  no,  I  know  he  will.     I  am  certain  his  blood  can  save  ;^nd 

1  beg  you,  in  Christ's  name,  believe  the  same ;  believe  that 
that  blood  is  sure  to  cleanse ;  not  only  that  it  may  cleanse,  but 
that  it  must  cleanse — "  whereby  we  must  be  saved,"  says  the 
Scripture.  If  we  have  that  blood  upon  us  we  must  be  saved, 
or  else  we  are  to  suppose  a  God  unfaithful  and  a  God  unkind ; 
in  fact,  a  God  transformed  from  every  thing  that  is  God-like 
into  every  thing  that  is  base. 

5.  And  yet  again,  he  that  hath  this  blood  sprinkled  upon 
him  is  saved  completely.  Not  the  hair  of  the  head  of  an  Is- 
raelite was  disturbed  by  the  destroying  angel.  They  were 
completely  saved ;  so  he  that  believeth  in  the  blood  is  saved 
from  all  things.  I  like  the  old  translation  of  the  chapter  in 
the  Romans.  There  was  a  martyr  once  summoned  before 
Bonner ;  and  after  he  had  expressed  his  faith  in  Christ,  Bonner 


THE  BLOOD.  815 

said,  "  You  are  a  heretic  and  will  be  damned."  "  Nay,"  said 
he,  quoting  the  old  version,  "there  is  therefore  now  no 
damnation  to  them  that  believe  in  Christ  Jesus."  And  that 
brings  a  sweet  thought  before  us ;  there  is  no  damnation  lo 
the  man  who  has  the  blood  of  Christ  upon  him  ;  he  can  not  be 
condemned  of  God  anyhow.  It  were  impossible.  There  is 
no  such  a  thing  ;  there  can  be  no  such  thing.  There  is  no 
damnation.  He  can  not  be  damned  ;  for  there  is  no  damna- 
tion to  him  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  Let  the  blood  be  applied 
to  the  lintel,  and  to  the  door-post,  there  is  no  destruction. 
There  is  a  destroying  angel  for  Egypt,  but  there  is  none  for 
lai-ael.  There  is  a  hell  for  the  wicked,  but  none  for  the  lighteous. 
And  if  there  is  none,  they  can  not  be  put  there.  If  there  is 
no  damnation  they  can  not  suffer  it.  Christ  saves  completely ; 
every  sin  is  washed,  every  blessing  ensured,  perfection  is  pro- 
vided, and  glory  everlasting  is  the  sure  result. 

I  think,  then,  I  have  dwelt  sufficiently  long  upon  the  efficacy 
of  his  blood;  but  no  tongue  %S  seraph  can  ever  speak  its 
worth.  I  must  go  home  to  my  chamber,  and  weep  because  I 
am  powerless  to  tell  this  story,  and  yet  I  have  labored  to  tell 
it  simply,  so  that  all  can  understand ;  and  I  pray,  therefore, 
that  God  the  Spirit  may  lead  some  of  you  to  put  your  trust 
simply,  wholly,  and  entirely,  on  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ. 

III.  This  brings  us  to  the  third  point,  upon  which  I  must 
be  very  brief;  and  the  third  point  is — ^the  one  condition. 
'*What,"  says  one,  "  do  you  preach  a  conditional  salvation  ?" 
Yes  I  do,  there  is  one  condition.  "  When  I  see  the  blood  I  will 
pass  over  you."  What  a  blessed  condition  !  It  does  not  say, 
when  you  see  the  blood,  but  when  i"  see  it.  Thine  eye  of  faith 
may  be  so  dim  that  thou  canst  not  see  the  blood  of  Christ. 
Ay,  but  God's  eye  is  not  dim ;  he  can  see  it,  yea  he  must  see 
it ;  for  Chiist  in  heaven  is  always  presenting  his  blood  before 
his  Father's  face.  The  Israelite  could  not  see  the  blood  ;  he 
was  inside  the  house ;  he  could  not  see  what  was  on  the  lintel 
and  the  door-post ;  but  God  could  see  it ;  and  this  is  the  only 
condition  of  the  sinner's  salvation — God  seeing  the  blood;  not 
your  seeing  it.  O  how  safe,  then,  is  every  one  that  trusts  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.    It  is  not  his  iaith  that  is  the  condition, 


316  THE  BLOOD. 

not  his  assurance  ;  it  is  the  simple  fact,  that  Calvary  is  set  per- 
petually before  the  eyes  of  God  in  a  risen  and  ascended  Saviour. 
"  When  /  see  the  blood,  I  will  pass  over  you."  Fall  on  your 
knees  then  in  prayer,  ye  doubting  souls,  and  let  this  be  your 
plea  : — "  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me  for  the  blood's  sake.  I 
can  not  see  it  as  I  could  desire,  but  Lord,  thou  seest  it,  and 
thou  hast  said,  '  When  I'see  it,  I  will  pass  over  you.'  Lord, 
thou  seest  it  this  day ;  pass  over  my  sin,  and  forgive  me  for  its 
dear  sake  alone." 

IV.  And  now,  lastly,  what  is  the  lesson  ?  The  lesson  of 
the  text  is  to  the  Christian  this.  Christian,  take  care  that 
thou  dost  always  remember,  that  nothing  but  the  blood  of 
Christ  can  save  thee.  I  preach  to  myself  to-day  what  I  preach 
to  you.  I  often  find  myself  like  this  : — I  have  been  praying 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  might  rest  in  my  heai't  and  cleanse  out  an 
evil  passion,  and  presently  I  find  myself  full  of  doubts  and 
fears,  and  when  I  ask  the  reason,  I  find  it  is  this  : — I  have  been 
looking  to  the  Spirit's  work  u^til  I  put  the  Spirit's  work  where 
Christ's  work  ought  to  be.  Now,  it  is  a  sin  to  put  your  own 
works  where  Christ's  should  be  ;  but  it  is  just  as  much  a  sin 
to  put  the  Holy  Spirit's  work  there.  You  must  never  make  the 
Spirit  of  God  an  anti-Christ ;  and  you  virtually  do  that  when 
you  put  the  Spirit's  work  as  the  groundwork  of  your  faith. 
Do  you  not  often  hear  Christian  men  say,  "  I  can  not  believe 
in  Christ  to-day  as  I  could  yesterday,  for  yesterday  I  felt  such 
sweet  and  blessed  enjoyments."  Now,  what  is  that  but  put- 
ting your  frames  and  feelings  where  Christ  ought  to  be?  Re- 
member, Christ's  blood  is  no  more  able  to  save  you  in  a  good 
frame  than  in  a  bad  fi-ame.  Christ's  blood  must  be  your  trust 
as  much  when  you  are  full  of  joy  as  when  you  are  full  of  doubt. 
And  here  it  is  that  your  happiness  will  be  in  danger,  by  be- 
ginning to  put  your  good  frames  and  good  feelings  in  the 
room  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  O,  brethren,  if  we  could  always 
live  with  a  single  eye  fixed  on  the  cross,  we  should  always  be 
happy ;  but  when  we  get  a  little  peace,  and  a  little  joy,  we 
begin  to  prize  the  joy  and  peace  so  much,  that  we  forget  the 
source  whence  they  come.  As  Mr.  Brooks  says,  "  A  husband 
that  loves  his  wife  will,  perhaps,  often  give  her  jewels  and 


THE  BLOOD.  317 

rings  ;  but  suppose  she  should  sit  down  and  begin  to  think  of 
her  jewels  and  rings  so  much  that  she  should  forget  her  hus- 
band, it  would  be  a  kind  husband's  business  to  take  them  away 
from  her  so  that  she  might  fix  her  affections  entirely  on  him." 
And  it  is  so  with  us.  Jesus  gives  us  jewels  of  faith  and  love, 
and  we  get  trusting  to  them,  and  he  takes  them  away  in  order 
that  we  may  come  again  as  guilty,  helpless  sinners,  and  put 
our  trust  in  Christ.  To  quote  a  verse  I  often  repeat — I  be- 
lieve the  spirit  of  a  Christian  should  be,  from  his  first  hour  to 
his  last,  the  spirit  of  these  two  lines : — 

"  Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring, 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling." 

That  is  the  lesson  to  the  saint. 

But  another  minute  ;  there  is  a  lesson  here  to  the  sinnei^ 
Poor,  trembling,  guilty  self-condemned  sinner,  I  have  a  word 
from  the  Lord  for  thee.  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth 
us,"  that  is  you  and  me,  "  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  That 
"  us"  includes  you,  if  now  you  are  feeling  your  need  of  a 
Saviour.  Now  that  blood  is  able  to  save  you,  and  you  are 
bidden  simply  to  trust  that  blood,  and  you  shall  be  saved. 
But  I  hear  you  say,  "Sir,"  you  said,  "if  I  feel  my  need.  Now 
I  feel  that  I  do  not  feel,  I  only  wish  I  did  feel  my  need  enough." 
Well,  do  not  bring  your  feelings,  then,  but  trust  only  in  the 
blood.  If  you  can  rely  simply  on  the  blood  of  Chiist,  what- 
ever your  feelings  may  be,  or  may  not  be,  that  blood  is  able 
to  save.  But  you  are  saying,  "  How  am  I  to  be  saved  ? 
What  must  I  do  ?"  Well  there  is  nothing  that  you  can  do. 
You  must  leave  off  doing  altogether,  in  order  to  be  saved. 
There  must  be  a  denial  of  all  your  doings.  You  must  get 
Christ  first,  and  then  you  may  do  as  much  as  you  like.  But 
you  must  not  trust  in  your  doings.  Your  business  is  now  to 
lift  up  your  heait  in  prayer  like  this: — "Lord,  thou  hast 
shown  me  something  of  myself,  show  me  something  of  my 
Saviour."  See  the  Saviour  hanging  on  the  cross,  turn  your 
eye  to  bim,  and  say,  "  Lord,  I  trust  thee ;  I  have  nothing 
else  to  trust  to,  but  I  rely  on  thee  ;  sink  or  swim,  my  Saviour, 
I  trust  thee."     And  as  surely,  sinner,  as  thou  caust  put  thy 


318  THE   BLOOD. 

trust  in  Christy  thou  art  as  safe  as  an  apostle  or  prophet.  !N'ot 
death  nor  hell  can  slay  that  man  whose  firm  reliance  is  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross.  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved."  "  He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized 
shall  be  saved  ;  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  He 
that  believeth  shall  be  saved,  be  his  sins  never  so  many ;  he 
that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned,  be  his  sins  never  so  few, 
and  be  his  virtues  never  so  many.  Trust  in  Jesus  now  !  Sin- 
ner, trust  in  Jesus  only. 

"  Not  all  the  blood  of  beasts 
On  Jewish  altars  slain, 
Could  give  the  gmlty  conscience  peace, 
Or  wash  away  the  stain. 

"  But  Christ,  the  heavenly  Lamb, 
^  Takes  all  our  sins  away  ; 

A  sacrifice  of  nobler  name, 
And  richer  blood  than  they." 


SERMON    XX. 
LOVE. 

""We  love  him,  because  he  first  loved  us." — 1  John,  iv.  19. 

During  the  last  two  Sabbath  days,  I  have  been  preaching 
the  gospel  to  the  unconverted.  I  have  earnestly  exhorted  the 
very  chief  of  sinners  to  look  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  have  assured 
them  that  as  a  preparation  for  coming  to  Christ,  thoy  need  no 
good  works,  or  good  dispositions,  but  that  they  may  come, 
just  as  they  are,  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  receive  the  par- 
doning blood  and  all-sufficient  merits  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
The  thought  has  since  occurred  to  me,  that  some  who  were 
ignorant  of  the  gospel  might,  perhaps,  put  this  query: — "Is 
this  likely  to  promote  morality  ?  If  the  gospel  be  a  proclama- 
tion of  pardon  to  the  very  chief  of  sinners,  will  not  this  be  a 
license  to  sin  ?  In  what  respects  can  the  gospel  be  said  to  be 
a  gospel  according  to  holiness?  How  will  such  preaching 
operate  ?  Will  it  make  men  better  ?  Will  they  be  more  at- 
tentive to  the  laws  which  relate  to  man  and  man  ?  Will  they 
be  more  obedient  to  the  statutes  that  relate  to  man  and  God  ?" 
I  thought,  therefore,  tliat  we  would  advance  a  step  further, 
and  endeavor  to  show,  this  morning,  how  the  proclamation  of 
the  gospel  of  God,  though  in  the  commencement  it  addresses 
itself  to  men  who  are  utterly  destitute  of  any  good,  is,  never- 
theless, designed  to  lead  these  very  men  to  the  noblest  heights 
of  virtue,  yea,  to  ultimate  perfection  in  holiness.  The  text 
tells  us,  that  the  effect  of  the  gospel  received  in  the  heart  is, 
that  it  compels  and  constrains  such  a  heart  to  love  God. 
"  We  love  him,  because  he  first  loved  us."  When  the  gospel 
comes  to  us  it  does  not  find  us  loving  God,  it  does  not  expect 
any  thing  of  us,  but  coming  with  the  divine  application  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  it  simply  assures  us  that  God  loves  us,  be  we  never 


320  LOVE. 

so  deeply  immersed  in  sin ;  and  then,  the  after  effect  of  this 
proclamation  of  love  is,  that  "  we  love  him  because  he  first 
loved  us." 

Can  you  imagine  a  being  placed  half-way  between  this  world 
and  heaven  ?     Can  you  conceive  of  him  as  having  such  en- 
larged capacities  that  he  could  easily  discern  what  was  done 
in  heaven,  and  what  was  done  on  earth  ?     I  can  conceive  that, 
before  the  fall,  if  there  had  been  such  a  being,  he  would  have 
been  struck  with  the  singular  harmony  which  existed  between 
God's  great  world,  called  heaven,  and  the  little  world,  the  earth* 
Whenever  the  chimes  of  heaven  rang,  the  great  note  of  those 
massive  bells  was  love ;  and  when  the   little  bells   of  earth 
were  sounded,  and  the  harmonies  of  this  narrow  sphere  rang 
out  their  note,  it  w^as  just  the  same — love.     When  the  bright 
spirits  gathered  around  the  great  throne  of  God  in  heaven  to 
magnify  the  Lord,  at  the  same  tim.e  there  w^as  to  be  seen  the 
world,  clad  in  its  priestly  garments,  offering  its  sacrifice  of 
purest  praise.      When   the  cherubim  and  seraphim  did  con- 
tinually cry,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  of  armies,"  there 
was  heard  a  note,  feebler,  perhaps,  but  yet  as  sweetly  musical, 
coming  up  from  Paradise,  "Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  of 
armies."     There  was  no  jar,  no  discord ;  the  thunder  peals  of 
heaven's  melodies  were  exactly  in  accord  with  the  whispers  of 
earth's  harmonies.     Tliere  was  "  glory  to  God  in  the  highest," 
and  on  earth  there  was  glory  too ;  the  heart  of  man  was  as 
the  heart  of  God  ;  God  loved  man,  and  man  loved  God.     But 
imagine  that  same  great  Spirit  to  be  still  standing  between 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  how  sad  must  he  be,  when  he  hears 
the  jarring  discord,  and  feels  it  grate  upon  the  ear !     The 
Lord  saith,  *'  I  am  reconciled  to  thee,  I  have  ptit  away  thy 
sin  ;"  but  what  is  the  answer  of  this  earth  ?     The  answer  of 
the  world  is,  "  Man  is  at  enmity  with  God :  God  may  be  rec- 
onciled, but  man  is  not.     The  mass  of  men  are  still  enemies 
to  God  by  wicked  works."     When  the  angels  praise  God,  if 
they  list  to  the  sounds  that  are  to  be  heard  on  earth,  they 
hear  the  trump  of  cruel  war  ;  they  hear  the  bacchanalian,  shout 
and  the  song  of  the  lascivious ;  and  what  a  discord  is  this  in 
the  great  harmony  of  the  spheres  !    The  fact  is  this — ^the  world 


LOVE.  321 

was  originally  one  great  string  in  the  harp  of  the  universe, 
and  when  the  Almighty  swept  that  hai-p  with  his  gracious 
fingers  there  was  nothing  to  be  heard  but  praise  ;  now  that 
string  is  snapped,  and  where  it  has  been  reset  by  grace,  still  it 
is  not  wholly  restored  to  its  perfect  tune,  and  the  note  that 
Cometh  from  it  hath  but  little  of  sweetness,  and  very  much  of 
discord.  But,  O  bright  Spirit,  retain  thy  place,  and  live  on. 
The  day  is  hastening  with  glowing  wheels,  and  the  axle  there- 
of is  hot  with  speed.  The  day  is  coming  when  this  world 
shall  be  a  Paradise  again.  Jesus  Chiist,  who  came  the  first 
time  to  bleed  and  suffer,  that  he  might  wash  the  world  from 
its  iniquity,  is  coming  a  second  time  to  reign  and  conquer,  that 
he  may  clothe  the  earth  with  glory ;  and  the  day  shall  arrive 
when  thou,  O  Spirit,  shalt  hear  again  the  everlasting  harmony. 
Once  more  the  bells  of  earth  shall  be  attuned  to  the  melodies 
of  heaven ;  once  more  shall  the  eternal  chorus  find  that  no 
singer  is  absent,  but  that  the  music  is  complete. 

But  how  is  this  to  be  ?  How  is  the  world  to  be  brought 
back?  How  is  it  to  be  restored  ?  We  answer,  the  reason  why 
there  was  this  original  harmony  between  earth  and  heaven 
was,  because  there  was  love  between  them  twain,  and  our 
great  reason  for  hoping  that  there  shall  be  at  last  reestab- 
lished an  undiscordant  harmony  between  heaven  and  earth  is 
simply  this,  that  God  hath  already  manifested  his  love  towards 
us,  and  that  in  return,  hearts  touched  by  his  grace  do  even 
now  love  him ;  and  when  they  shall  be  multiplied,  and  love 
reestablished,  then  shall  the  harmony  be  complete. 

Having  thus  introduced  my  text,  I  must  now  plunge  into  it. 
We  shall  notice  the  parentrnje^  the  nourishment^  and  the  walk 
of  love  ;  and  shall  exhort  all  believers  here  present,  to  love 
God,  because  he  hath  first  loved  them. 

I.  In  the  fiitJt  place,  the  parentage  of  true  lo\^e  to  God. 
There  is  no  light  in  the  planet  but  that  which  cometh  from 
the  sun ;  there  is  no  light  in  the  moon  but  that  which  is  bor- 
rowed ;  and  there  is  no  true  love  in  the  heart  but  that  which 
cometh  from  God.  Love  is  the  light,  the  life,  and  way  of  the 
universe.  Now,  God  is  botli  life,  and  light,  and  way,  and  to 
crown  all,  Oodis  love.     From  this  overflowing  fountain  of  th^ 

14* 


822  LOVE. 

infinite  love  of  God,  all  our  love  to  God  must  spring.  This 
must  ever  be  a  great  and  certain  truth,  that  we  love  him,  for 
no  other  reason  than  because  he  first  loved  us.  There  are  some 
that  think  that  God  might  be  loved  by  simple  contemplation 
of  his  works.  We  do  not  believe  it.  "We  have  heard  a  great 
deal  about  admiring  philosophers,  and  we  have  felt  that  admi- 
ration Avas  more  than  possible,  when  st,udying  the  works  of 
God.  We  have  heard  a  great  deal  about  wondering  discov- 
erers, and  we  have  acknowledged  that  the  mind  must  be  base 
indeed  which  does  not  wonder  when  it  looks  upon  the  works 
of  God  ;  and  we  have  sometimes  heard  about  a  love  to  God 
which  has  been  engendered  by  the  beauties  of  scenery,  but  we 
have  never  believed  in  its  existence.  We  do  believe  that  where 
love  is  already  born  in  the  heart  of  man,  all  the  wonders  ot 
God's  providence  and  creation  may  excite  that  love  again,  it 
being  there  already ;  but  we  do  not  and  we  can  not  believe, 
because  we  never  saw  such  an  instance,  that  the  mere  contem- 
plation of  God's  w^orks  could  ever  raise  any  man  to  the  height 
of  love.  In  fact,  the  great  problem  has  been  tried,  and  it  has 
been  solved  in  the  negative.     What  saith  the  poet  ? 

"  "What  though  the  spicy  breezes  blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle ; 
Though  every  prospect  pleases,  and  only  man  is  vile." 

Where  God  is  most  resplendent  in  his  works,  and  most  lavish 
in  his  gifts,  there  man  has  been  the  vilest,  and  God  is  the  most 
forgotten. 

Others  have  taught,  if  not  exactly  in  doctrine,  yet  their 
doctrine  necessarily  leads  to  it,  that  human  nature  may  of  it- 
self attain  unto  love  to  God.  Our  simple  reply  is,  we  have 
never  met  with  such  an  instance.  We  have  curiously  ques- 
tioned the  people  of  God,  and  we  believe  that  others  have 
questioned  them  in  every  age,  but  we  have  never  had  but  one 
answer  to  this  question,  "  Why  hast  thou  loved  God  ?"  The 
only  answer  has  been,  "  Because  he  first  loved  me."  I  have 
heard  men  preach  about  free-will,  but  I  never  yet  heard  of  a 
Christian  who  exalted  free-will  in  his  own  experience.  I  have 
heard  men  say,  that  men  of  their  own  free-will  may  turn  to 
Godj  believe,  repent,  and  love,  but  I  have  heard  the  same 


LOVE.  323 

persons,  when  talking  of  their  own  experience,  say,  that  they 
did  not  so  turn  to  God,  but  that  Jesus  sought  them  when 
they  were  strangers  wandering  from  the  fold  of  God.  The 
whole  matter  may  look  specious  enough,  wlien  preached,  but 
when  felt,  it  is  found  to  be  a  phantom.  It  may  seem  right 
enough  for  a  man  to  tell  his  fellow  that  his  own  free-will  may 
save  him ;  but  when  he  comes  to  close  dealing  with  his  own 
conscience,  he  himself,  however  wild  in  his  doctrine,  is  com- 
pelled to  say,  "  Oh  !  yes,  I  do  love  Jesus,  because  he  first 
loved  me."  I  have  wondered  at  a  Wesleyan  brother,  who  has 
sometimes  railed  against  this  doctrine  in  the  pulpit,  and  then 
has  given  out  this  very  hymn,  and  all  the  members  of  the 
church  have  joined  in  singing  it  most  heartily,  while  at  the 
same  time  they  were  tolling  the  death-knell  of  their  own  pecu- 
liar tenets ;  for  if  that  hymn  be  true,  Arminianism  must  be 
false.  If  it  be  the  certain  fact,  that  the  only  reason  for  our 
loving  God  is  that  his  love  has  been  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts, 
then  it  can  not  be  true  anyhow,  that  man  ever  did  or  ever  will 
love  God,  until  first  of  all  God  has  manifested  his  love  towards 
him. 

But  without  disputing  any  longer,  do  we  not  all  admit  that 
our  love  to  God  is  the  sweet  offspring  of  God's  love  to  us? 
Ah !  beloved,  cold  admiration  every  man  may  have  ;  but  the 
warmth  of  love  can  only  be  kindled  by  the  fires  of  God's  Spirit. 
Let  each  Christian  speak  for  himself — we  shall  all  hold  this 
great  and  cardinal  truth,  that  the  reason  of  our  love  to  God 
is,  the  sweet  influence  of  his  grace.  Sometimes  I  wonder  that 
such  as  we  should  have  been  brought  to  love  God  at  all.  Is 
our  love  so  precious  that  God  should  court  our  love,  dressed 
in  the  crimson  robes  of  a  dying  Redeemer  ?  If  we  had  loved 
God,  it  would  have  been  no  more  than  he  deserved.  But 
when  we  rebelled,  and  yet  he  sought  our  love,  it  was  surpris- 
ing indeed.  It  was  a  wonder  when  he  disrobed  himself  of  all 
his  splendors,  and  came  down  and  wrapped  himself  in  a  mantle 
of  clay  ;  but  methinks  the  wonder  is  excelled  yet,  for  after  he 
had  died  for  us,  still  we  did  not  love  him  ;  we  rebelled  against 
him;  we  rejected  the  proclamation  of  the  gospel ;  we  resisted  his 
Spirit ;  but  he  said,  I  will  have  their  hearts  ;  and  he  followed  us 


324  lov:e. 

clay  after  day,  hour  after  hour.  Sometimes  he  laid  us  low,  and  he 
'  said,  "  Surely  they  will  love  me  if  I  restore  them !"  At  another 
time  he  filled  us  with  corn  and  with  wine,  and  he  said,  "  Surely 
they  will  love  me  now,"  but  we  still  j-evolted,  still  rebelled. 
At  last  he  said,  "  I  will  strive  no  longer,  I  am  Almighty,  and 
I  will  not  have  it  that  a  human  heart  is  stronger  than  I  am. 
I  turn  the  will  of  man  as  the  rivers  of  water  are  turned  ;"  and 
lo !  he  put  forth  his  strength,  and  in  an  instant  the  current 
changed,  and  we  loved  him,  because  we  then  could  see  the 
love  of  God,  in  that  he  sent  his  Son  to  be  our  Redeemer. 
But  we  must  confess,  beloved,  going  back  to  the  tiuth  with 
which  we  started,  that  never  should  we  have  had  any  love 
towards  God,  unless  that  love  had  been  sown  in  us  by  the 
sweet  seed  of  his  love  to  us.  If  there  be  any  one  here  that 
hath  a  love  to  Christ,  let  him  differ  from  this  doctrine  here, 
but  let  him  know  that  he  shall  not  differ  hereafter ;  for  in 
heaven  they  all  sing.  Praise  to  free  grace.  They  all  sing, 
"  Salvation  to  our  God  and  to  the  Lamb." 

II.  Love,  then,  has  for  its  parent  the  love  of  God  shed 
abroad  in  our  hearts.  But  after  it  is  divinely  born  in  our 
heart  it  must  be  divinely  noueished.  Love  is  an  exotic  ;  it 
is  not  a  plant  that  will  flourish  naturally  in  human  soil.  Love 
to  God  is  a  rich  and  rare  thing ;  it  would  die  if  it  were  left  to 
be  frost-bitten  by  the  chilly  blasts  of  our  selfishness  ;  and  if  it 
received  no  nourishment  but  that  which  can  be  drawn  from 
the  rock  of  our  own  hard  hearts  it  must  perish.  As  love 
comes  from  heaven,  so  it  must  feed  on  heavenly  bread.  It 
can  not  exist  in  this  wilderness,  unless  it  is  nutured  from 
above,  and  fied  by  maima  from  on  high.  On  what,  then,  does 
love  feed  ?  Why,  it  feeds  on  love.  That  which  brought  it 
forth  becomes  its  food.  "  We  love  him  because  he  first  loved 
us."  The  constant  motive  and  sustaining  power  of  our  love 
to  God  is  his  love  to  us.  And  here  let  me  remark  that  there 
are  different  kinds  of  food,  in  this  great  granary  of  love. 
When  we  are  fi]st  of  all  renewed,  the  only  food  on" which  we 
can  live  is  milk,  because  we  are  but  babes,  and  as  yet  have 
not  strength  to  feed  on  higher  truths. 

The  first  thing,  then,  that  our  love  feeds  upon,  when  it  is 


LOVE.  325 

but  an  inflnit,  is  a  sense  of  favors  received.  Ask  a  young 
Christian  why  he  loves  Christ,  and  lie  will  tell  you,  I  love 
Christ  because  he  has  bought  me  with  his  blood !  Why  do 
you  love  God  the  Father  ?  I  love  God  the  Father  because 
he  gave  his  Son  for  me.  And  why  do  you  love  God  the 
Spirit  ?  I  love  him  because  he  has  renewed  ray  heart.  That 
is  to  say,  we  love  God  for  what  he  has  given  us.  Our  first 
love  feeds  just  on  the  simple  food  of  a  grateful  recollection  ot 
mercies  received.  And  mark,  however  much  we  grow  in 
grace  this  will  always  constitute  a  great  part  of  the  food  of 
om*  love. 

But  when  the  Christian  grows  older  and  has  more  grace,  he 
loves  Christ  for  another  reason.  He  loves  Christ  because  he 
feels  Christ  deserves  to  be  loved.  I  trust  I  can  say,  I  have  in 
my  heart  now  a  love  to  God,  altogether  apart  from  the  matter 
of  my  personal  salvation.  I  feel  that  even  now,  I  must  love 
him,  for  his  character  is  so  unutterably  lovely.  His  love  to 
other  people  seems  as  if  it  would  compel  me  to  love  him.  To 
think  that  he  should  love  men  at  all  is  so  great  a  thought,  that 
altogether  apart  from  ray  interest  in  it,  I  trust  I  can  say  that 
I  love  Christ,  having  seen  soraething  of  Christ  in  his  offices, 
and  soraething  of  the  rapturous  beauties  of  his  complex  per- 
son. I  feel  as  if  I  could  corae  to  his  feet,  and  say,  "  Sweet 
Lord,  I  loved  thee  first,  because  of  thy  gifts  to  me  ;  but  now 
I  love  thee  because  thou  art  altogether  lovely.  Thou  hast 
entranced  my  soul  with  the  look  of  thine  eyes,  thou  hast  enrap- 
tured my  spirit  with  the  glories  of  thy  person  ;  and  now  I 
love  thee,  not  merely  because  I  have  eaten  of  thy  bread,  and 
thou  hast  supplied  my  wants,  but  I  love  thee  for  what  thou 
art."  But  mark,  at  the  same  time,  we  must  always  mingle 
with  this  the  old  motive.  We  must  still  feel  that  we  begin 
with  that  first  stepping  stone,  loving  Christ  because  of  his 
mercies,  and  that  although  we  have  climbed  higher,  and  have 
come  to  love  him  with  a  love  that  is  supeiior  to  that  in  mo- 
tive, yet  still  we  cairy  the  old  motive  with  us.  We  love  him 
because  of  his  kindness  towards  us.  Why,  I  do  thhik  that  it 
is  possible  for  a  man,  filled  with  the  love  of  Christ  in  his  heart, 
and  girded  by  divine  grace,  to  soar  to  such  a  degree  of  love 


326  LOVE. 

to  Chiist,  that  if  you  could  hear  him  speak,  you  would  sit  and 
wonder,  as  though  an  angel  spoke  to  you.  Did  you  ever  read 
the  divine  letters  of  Rutherford  ?  I  do  think,  if  there  remains 
among  men  a  remnant  of  the  ancient  inspiration  that  guided 
the  pen  of  Solomon,  it  rested  upon  the  head  of  Rutherford. 
If  you  read  the  sonnets  of  sweet  George  Herbert,  oh,  how 
sweetly  does  he  sing  of  his  Master.  If  there  be  any  of  the 
heavenly  harps  left  by  accident  on  earth,  Geoi'ge  Herbert 
found  one,  and  he  touched  the  living  strings  with  such  divine 
excellency  of  judgment,  that  he  made  every  string  find  out 
his  Master.  These  men  did  not  merely  love  Christ  because  of 
what  he  had  done  for  them  ;  but  you  will  find  in  their  sonnets 
and  in  their  letters,  that  their  motive  of  love  was,  that  he 
had  communed  with  them,  he  had  showed  them  his  hands 
and  his  side  ;  they  had  walked  with  him  in  the  villages  ;  they 
had  lain  with  him  on  the  beds  of  spices ;  they  had  entered 
into  the  mystic  circle  of  communion  ;  and  they  felt  that  they 
loved  Christ,  because  he  was  all  over  glorious,  and  was  so 
divinely  fair,  that  if  all  nations  could  behold  him,  sure  they 
must  be  constrained  to  love  him  too. 

This,' then,  is  the  food  of  love  ;  but  when  love  grows  rich 
— and  it  does  sometimes — the  most  loving  heart  grows  cold 
towards  Christ.  Do  you  know  that  the  only  food  that  ever 
suits  sick  love,  is  the  food  on  which  it  fed  at  first  ?  I  have 
heard  say  by  the  physicians,  that  if  a  man  be  sick  there  is  no 
place  so  well  adapted  for  him  as  the  place  where  he  was  born ; 
and  if  love  grows  sick  and  cold,  there  is  no  place  so  fit  for  it 
to  go  to  as  the  j)lace  where  it  was  born,  namely,  the  love  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  Where  was  love  born  ?  Was 
she  bom  in  the  midst  of  romantic  scenery,  and  was  she  nursed 
with  wondrous  contemplations  upon  the  lap  of  beauty  ?  Ah  ! 
no.  Was  she  born  on  the  steeps  of  Sinai,  when  God  came 
from  Sinai,,  and  the  Holy  One  from  mount  Paran,  and  melted 
the  mountains  with  the  touch  of  his  foot,  and  made  the  rocks 
flow  down  like  wax  before  his  terrible  presence  ?  Ah !  no. 
Was  love  born  «n  Tabor,  when  the  Saviour  was  transfigured, 
and  his  garment  became  whiter  than  wool,  whiter  than  any 
fuller  could  make  it  ?     Ah!   no:    darkness  rushed  o'er  the 


LOVE.  327 

sight  of  those  that  looked  upon  him  then,  and  they  fell  asleep, 
for  the  glory  overpowered  them.  Let  me  tell  you  where  love 
was  born.  Love  was  born  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane, 
where  Jesus  sweat  great  drops  of  blood ;  it  was  nurtured  in 
Pilate's  hall,  where  Jesus  bared  his  back  to  the  plowing  ot 
the  lash,  and  gave  his  body  to  be  spit  upon  and  scourged. 
Love  was  nurtured  at  the  cross,  amid  the  groans  of  an  expir- 
ing God,  beneath  the  droppings  of  his  blood — it  w^as  there 
that  love  was  nurtured.  Bear  me  witness,  children  of  God. 
"Where  did  your  love  spring  from,  but  from  the  foot  of  the 
cross  ?  Did  you  ever  see  that  sweet  flower  growing  any- 
where but  at  the  foot  of  Calvary  ?  No  ;  it  was  when  ye  saw 
"love  divine,  all  loves  excelling,"  outdoing  its  own  self;  it 
was  when  you  saw  love  in  bondage  to  itself,  dying  by  its  own 
stroke,  laying  down  its  life,  though  it  had  power  to  retain  it 
and  to  take  it  up  again ;  it  was  there  your  love  was  born ; 
and  if  you  wish  your  love,  when  it  is  sick,  to  be  recovered, 
take  it  to  some  of  those  sweet  places  ;  make  it  sit  in  the  shade 
of  the  olive  trees,  and  make  it  stand  on  the  Pavement  and 
gaze,  while  the  blood  is  still  gushing  down.  Take  it  to  the 
cross,  and  bid  it  look  and  see  afresh  the  bleeding  lamb  ;  and 
surely  this  shall  make  thy  love  spring  from  a  dwarf  into  a 
giant,  and  this  shall  fan  it  from  a  spark  into  a  flame. 

And  then,  when  thy  love  is  thus  recruited,  let  me  bid  thee 
give  thy  love  full  exercise ;  for  it  shall  grow  thereby.  You 
say,  "Where  shall  I  exercise  the  contemplation  of  my  love,  to 
make  it  grow  ?"  Oh  1  sacred  dove  of  love,  stretch  thy  wings, 
and  play  the  eagle  now.  Come !  open  wide  thine  eyes,  and 
look  full  into  the  sun's  face,  and  soar  upward,  upward,  up- 
ward, far  above  the  heights  of  this  world's  creation,  upwards, 
till  thou  art  lost  in  eternity.  Remember,  that  God  loved  thee 
from  before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  Does  not  this 
strengthen  thy  love  ?  Ah  !  what  a  bracing  air  is  that  air  of 
eternity  !  When  I  fly  into  it  for  a  moment,  and  think  of  the 
great  doctrine  of  election — of 

"  That  vast  unmeasured  love,  which,  from  the  days  of  old, 
Did  all  the  chosen  seed  embrace,  like  sheep  within  the  fold, " 


328  LOVE. 

it  makes  the  tears  run  down  one's  cheeks  to  think  that  we 
should  have  an  interest  in  that  decree  and  council  of  the  Al- 
mighty Three,  'svhen  every  one  that  should  be  blood-bought 
had  his  name  inscribed  in  God's  eternal  book.  Come,  soul,  I 
bid  thee  now  exercise  thy  wings  a  little,  and  see  if  this  does 
not  make  thee  love  God.  He  thought  of  thee  before  thou 
hadst  a  being.  When  as  yet  the  sun  and  the  moon  were  not 
— when  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  stars  slept  in  the  mind  of 
God,  like  unborn  forests  in  an  acorn  cup — when  the  old  sea 
was  not  yet  born — long  ere  this  infant  world  lay  in  its  swad- 
dling bands  of  mist,  then  God  had  inscribed  thy  name  upon 
the  heart  and  upon  the  hands  of  Christ  indelibly,  to  remain  for 
ever.  And  does  not  this  make  thee  love  God  ?  Is  not  this 
sweet  exercise  for  thy  love  ?  for  here  it  is  my  text  comes  in, 
giving,  as  it  were,  the  last  charge  in  this  sweet  battle  of  love — 
a  charge  that  sweeps  every  thing  before  it.  "  We  love  God, 
because  he  first  loved  us,"  seeing  that  he  loved  us  before  time 
began,  and  when  in  eternity  he  dwelt  alone. 

And  when  thou  hast  soared  backward  into  the  past  eternity, 
I  have  yet  another  flight  for  thee.  Soar  back  through  all 
thine  own  experience,  and  think  of  the  way  whereby  the  Lord 
thy  God  hath  led  thee  in  the  wilderness,  and  how  he  hath  fed 
and  clothed  thee  every  day — how  he  hath  borne  with  thine  ill 
manners — how  he  hath  put  up  with  all  thy  murmurings,  and 
all  thy  longings  after  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt — how  he  hath 
opened  the  rock  to  supply  thee,  and  fed  thee  with  manna 
that  came  down  from  heaven.  Think  of  how  his  grace  has 
been  sufficient  for  thee  in  all  thy  troubles — how  his  blood  has 
been  a  pardon  to  thee  in  all  thy  sins — how  his  rod  and  his 
staff  have  comforted  thee.  And  when  thou  hast  flown  over 
this  sweet  field  of  love,  thou  mayest  fly  further  on,  and  re- 
member that  the  oath,  the  covenant,  the  blood,  have  some- 
thing more  in  them  than  the  past,  for  though  "  he  first  loved 
us,"  yet  this  doth  not  mean  that  he  shall  ever  cease  to  love,  for 
he  is  Alpha,  and  he  shall  be  Omega,  he  is  first,  and  he  shall  be 
last;  and  therefore  bethink  thee,  when  thou  shalt  pass  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  thou  needest  fear  no  evil, 
for  he  is  with  thee.     When  thou  shalt  stand  in  the  cold  floods 


LOVE.  320 

of  Jordan,  thou  needest  not  fear,  for  death  can  not  separate 
thee  from  his  love  ;  and  when  thou  shalt  come  into  the  mys- 
teries of  eternity  thou  needest  not  tremble,  for  "  I  am  per- 
suaded that  neither  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any 
other  creature  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God  w^hioh  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  And  now,  soul,  is 
not  thy  love  refreshed  ?  Does  not  this  make  thee  love  him  ? 
Doth  not  a  flight  over  those  illimitable  plains  of  the  ether  of 
love,  inflame  thy  heart,  and  compel  thee  to  delight  thyself  in 
the  Lord  thy  God  ?  Here  is  the  food  of  love.  "  We  love  him, 
because  he  first  loved  us,"  and  because  in  that  first  love  there 
is  the  pledge  and  promise  that  he  will  love  us  even  to  the  end. 
III.  And  now  comes  the  third  point,  the  walk  of  love. 
"  We  love  him."  Children  of  God,  if  Christ  were  here  on 
earth,  what  would  you  do  for  him  ?  If  it  should  be  rumored 
to-morrow  that  the  Son  of  man  had  come  down  from  heaven, 
as  he  came  at  first,  what  would  you  do  for  him  ?  If  there 
should  be  an  infallible  witness  that  the  feet  that  trod  the  holy 
acres  of  Palestine  were  actually  treading  the  roads  of  this 
land,  what  would  you  do  for  him  ?  Oh,  I  can  conceive  that 
there  would  be  a  tumult  of  delighted  hearts — a  superabun- 
dance of  liberal  hands — that  there  would  be  a  sea  of  stream- 
ing e}  es  to  behold  him.  "  Do  for  him  !"  says  one.  "  Do 
for  him !  Did  he  hunger,  I  would  give  him  meat,  though 
it  were  ray  last  crust.  Did  he  thirst,  I  w^ould  give  him 
drink,  though  my  own  lips  were  parched  with  fire.  Was 
he  naked,  I  would  strip  myself  and  shiver  in  the  cold  to  clothe 
him.  Do  for  him !  I  should  scarcely  know  what  to  do.  I 
would  hurry  away,  and  I  Avould  cast  myself  at  his  dear  feet, 
and  I  would  beseech  him,  if  it  would  but  honor  him,  that  he 
would  tread  upon  iSe,  and  crush  me  in  the  dust,  if  he  would 
but  be  raised  one  inch  the  higher  thereby.  Did  he  want  a 
soldier,  I  would  enlist  in  his  army  ;  did  he  need  that  some  one 
should  die,  I  would  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  if  he  stood 
by  to  see  the  sacrifice  and  cheer  me  in  the  flames."  O  ye 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  !  would  ye  not  go  forth  to  meet  him  ? 
would  ye  not  rejoice   with   the   tabret,  and   in   the  dance? 


330  LOVE. 

Dance  then  ye  might,  like  Miriam,  by  the  side  of  Egypt's 
waters,  red  with  blood.  We,  the  sons  of  men,  would  dance 
like  David  before  the  ark,  exulting  for  joy,  if  Christ  were 
come.  Ah  !  we  think  we  love  him  so  much  that  we  should  do 
all  that ;  but  there  is  a  grave  question  about  the  truth  of  this 
matter  after  all.  Do  you  not  know  that  Christ's  wife  and 
family  ai-e  here  ?  And  if  ye  love  him,  would  it  not  follow  as  a 
natural  inference,  that  ye  would  love  his  bride  and  his  offspring  ? 
"Ah !"  says  one,  "Christ  has  no  bride  upon  earth."  Has  he 
not  ?  Has  he  not  espoused  unto  himself  his  church  f  Is  not 
his  church,  the  mother  of  the  faithful,  his  own  chosen  wife  ? 
And  did  he  not  give  his  blood  to  be  her  dower?  And  has  he 
not  declared  that  he  never  will  be  divorced  from  her,  for  he 
hates  to  put  away,  and  that  he  will  consummate  the  marriage 
in  the  last  great  day,  when  he  shall  come  to  reign  with  his 
people  upon  the  earth.  And  has  he  no  children  here?  "The 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  and  the  sons  of  Zion,  who  hath  be- 
gotten me  these  ?  Are  not  they  the  offspring  of  the  ever- 
lasting Father,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  the  child  born,  the  son 
given  ?"  Surely  they  are  ;  and  if  we  love  Christ  as  we  think 
we  do,  as  we  pretend  we  do,  we  shall  love  his  church  and 
people.  And  do  you  love  his  church  ?  Perhaps  you  love  the 
part  to  which  you  belong.  You  love  the  hand.  It  may  be  a 
hand  which  is  garnished  with  many  a  brilliant  ring  of  noble 
ceremonies,  and  you  love  that.  You  may  belong  to  some 
poor,  poverty-stricken  denomination — it  may  be  the  foot — and 
you  love  the  foot;  but  you  speak  contem2:»tuously  of  the  hand, 
because  it  is  garnished  with  greater  honors.  Whilst  perhaps  ye 
of  the  hand  are  speaking  lightly  of  those  who  are  of  the  foot. 
Brethren,  it  is  a  common  thing  with  us  all  to  love  only  a  part 
of  Christ's  body,  and  not  to  love  the  whole  ;  but  if  we  love 
him  we  should  love  all  his  people. 

When  we  are  on  bur  knees  in  prayer,  I  fear  that  when  we 
are  praying  for  the  church  we  do  not  mean  all  that  we  say. 
We  are  praying  for  our  church,  our  section  of  it.  Novv%  he 
that  loves  Christ,  if  he  be  a  Baptist,  he  loves  the  doctrine 
of  baptism,  because  he  knows  it  to  be  scriptural ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  wherever  he  sees  the  grace  of  God  to  be  in  any 


LOVE.  331 

man's  heart,  he  loves  him  because  he  is  a  part  of  the  living 
church,  and  he  does  not  withhold  his  heart,  his  hand,  or  his 
house  from  bim,  because  he  happens  to  differ  on  some  one 
point.  I  pray  that  the  church  in  these  days  may  have  a  more 
loving  spirit  towards  herself.  We  ought  to  delight  in  the 
advance  of  every  denomination.  Is  the  Church  of  England 
rousing  from  its  sleep  ?  Is  she  springing,  like  a  phenix,  from 
her  ashes  ?  God  be  with  her,  and  God  bless  her  !  Is  another 
denomination  leading  the  van,  and  seeking  by  its  ministers  to 
entice  the  wanderer  into  the  house  of  God  ?  God  be  with  it ! 
Is  the  Methodist  laboring  in  the  hedge  and  ditch,  toiling  for 
his  Master  ?  God  help  him  !  Is  the  Calvinist  seeking  to  up- 
hold Christ  crucified  in  all  his  splendors  ?  God  be  with  him ! 
And  does  another  man  with  far  less  knowledge  preach  much 
error,  but  still  hold  that  "  by  grace  are  ye  saved  through 
faith,"  then  God  bless  him,  and  may  success  be  Tvdth  him  ever- 
more. If  ye  loved  Christ  better,  ye  would  love  all  Christ's 
church,  and  all  Christ's  people. 

Do  you  not  know  that  Christ  hath  now  a  mouth  on  earth, 
and  hath  left  a  hand  on  earth,  and  a  foot  on  earth  still,  and  that 
if  ye  would  prove  your  love  to  him,  ye  would  not  think  that 
ye  can  not  feed  him — ye  need  not  imagine  that  ye  can  not 
fill  his  hand,  or  that  ye  can  not  wash  his  feet  ?  Ye  can  do  all 
this  to-day.  He  has  left  his  poor  and  afflicted  people,  and 
their  mouths  are  hungry,  for  they  need  bread,  and  their  tongue 
is  parched  for  they  need  water.  You  meet  them ;  they  come 
to  you ;  they  are  destitute  and  afflicted.  Do  ye  refuse  them  ? 
Do  you  know  who  it  was  ye  denied  at  your  door  ?  "  Inasmuch 
as  ye  did  it  not  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  my  brethren, 
ye  did  it  not  to  me."  In  rejecting  the  petition  of  the  poor, 
when  you  might  have  helped  them,  you  rejected  Christ. 
Christ  was  virtually  the  man  to  whom  you  parsimoniously  re- 
fused the  needed  alms,  and  your  Saviour  was  thus  rejected  at 
the  door  of  one  for  whom  he  himself  had  died.  Do  you  want 
to  feed  Christ  ?  Open  your  eyes,  then,  and  you  shall  see  him 
everywhere ;  in  our  back  streets,  in  our  lanes,  in  our  alleys,  in 
all  our  churches,  connected  with  every  branch  of  Christ's  peo- 
ple, ye  shall  find  the  poor  and  the  afflicted.    If  ye  want  to 


332  LOVE. 

feed  Christ,  feed  them.  But  ye  say  that  ye  are  willing  to  wash 
Christ's  feet.  Ah  !  well,  and  ye  may  do  it.  Has  he  no  fallen 
children  ?  Are  there  no  brethren  who  have  sinned,  and  who 
are  thus  defiled  ?  If  Christ's  feet  were  foul,  ye  say,  ye  would 
wash  them ;  then  if  a  Christian  man  has  stepped  aside,  seek 
to  restore  him,  and  lead  him  once  more  in  the  way  of  right- 
eousness. And  do  you  want  to  fill  Christ's  hands  with  your 
liberality  ?  His  church  is  the  treasure-house  of  his  alms,  and 
the  hand  of  his  church  is  outstretched  for  help,  for  she  always 
needs  it.  She  has  a  work  to  do  which  must  be  accomplished. 
She  is  straitened  because  your  help  is  withheld  from  her; 
pour  your  gifts  into  her  treasury,  for  all  that  ye  can  give  unto 
her  is  given  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Finally,  to  stimulate  your  love,  let  me  remind  you  that 
Christ  Jesus  had  two  trials  of  his  love,  which  he  endured  with 
firmness,  but  which  are  often  too  much  for  us.  When  Christ 
was  high,  and  glorious,  I  marvel  that  he  loved  us.  I  have 
known  many  a  man  who  loved  his  friend  when  he  was  in  the 
same  low  estate ;  but  he  has  risen,  and  he  has  disdained  to 
know  the  man  at  whose  table  he  had  fed.  A  lofty  eleva- 
tion tries  the  love  which  we  bear  to  those  who  are  inferior  to 
us  in  rank.  Now,  Christ  Jesus,  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  the 
King  of  angels,  condescended  to  notice  us  before  he  came  on 
earth,  and  always  called  us  brethren :  and  since  he  has  as- 
cended up  to  heaven,  and  has  reassumed  the  diadem,  and 
once  more  sits  down  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  he  never  has 
forgotten  us.  His  high  estate  has  never  made  him  slight  a 
disciple.  When  he  rode  into  Jerusalem  in  triumph,  we  do 
not  read  that  he  disdained  to  confess  that  the  humble  fisher- 
men were  his  followers.  And  "  now,  though  he  reigns  exalt- 
ed high,  his  love  is  still  as  great ;"  still  he  calls  us  brethren, 
friends ;  still  he  recognizes  the  kinship  of  the  one  blood.  And 
yet,  strange  to  say,  we  have  known  many  Christians  who  have 
forgotten  much  of  their  love  to  Christ  when  they  have  risen 
in  the  world.  "  Ah  !"  said  a  woman,  who  had  been  wont  to  do 
much  for  Christ  in  poverty,  and  who  had  had  a  great  sum  left 
her,  "  I  can  not  do  as  much  as  I  used  to  do."  "  But  how  is 
that?"  said  one.     Said  she,  "When  I  had  a  shilling  purse  I 


LOVE.  333 

had  a  guinea  heai*t,  but  now  I  have  a  guinea  purse  I  have  only 
a  shilling  heart."  It  is  a  sad  temptation  to  some  men  to  get 
rich.  They  were  content  to  go  to  the  meeting-house  and  mix 
with  the  ignoble  congregation,  while  they  had  but  little ;  they 
have  grown  rich ;  there  is  a  Turkey  carpet  in  the  drawing- 
room  ;  they  have  arrangements  now  too  splendid  to  permit 
them  to  invite  the  poor  of  the  flock,  as  they  once  did,  and 
Christ  Jesus  is  not  so  fashionable  as  to  allow  them  to  intro- 
duce any  religious  topic  when  they  meet  with  their  new 
friends.  Besides  this,  they  say  they  are  now  obliged  to  pay 
this  \'isit  and  that  visit,  and  they  must  spend  so  much  time 
upon  attire,  and  in  maintaining  their  station  and  respectabil- 
ity, they  can  not  find  time  to  pray  as  they  did.  The  house 
of  God  has  to  be  neglected  for  the  party,  and  Christ  has  less 
of  their  heart  than  ever  he  had.  "  Is  this  thy  kindness  to  thy 
friend  ?"  And  hast  thou  risen  so  high  that  thou  art  ashamed 
of  Christ  ?  and  art  thou  grown  so  rich,  that  Christ  in  his  pov- 
erty is  despised?  Alas!  poor  wealth!  alas!  base  wealth! 
alas !  vile  wealth !  'Twere  well  for  thee  if  it  should  be  all 
swept  away,  if  a  descent  to  poverty  should  be  a  restoration 
to  the  ardency  of  thine  affection. 

But  once  again :  what  a  trial  of  love  was  that,  when  Christ 
began  to  suffer  for  us !  There  are  many  men,  I  doubt  not, 
who  are  true  believers,  and  love  their  Saviour,  who  would 
tremble  to  come  to  the  test  of  suffering.  Imagine  yourself, 
my  brother,  taken  to-day  into  some  dark  dungeon  of  the  In- 
quisition ;  conceive  that  all  the  horrors  ot  the  dark  ages  are 
revived ;  you  are  taken  down  a  long,  dark  stair-case,  and  hur- 
ried you  know  not  whither ;  at  last  you  come  to  a  place,  far 
deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  round  about  you  see 
hanging  on  the  walls  the  pincers,  the  instruments  of  torture  of 
all  kinds  and  shapes.  There  are  two  inquisitors  there,  who  say 
to  you,  "  Are  you  prepared  to  renounce  your  heretical  faith, 
and  to  return  to  the  bosom  of  the  church  ?"  I  conceive,  my 
brethren  and  sisters,  that  you  would  have  strength  of  mind 
and  grace  enough  to  say,  "  I  am  not  prepared  to  deny  my 
Saviour."  But  when  the  pincers  began  to  tear  the  flesh,  when 
the  hot  coals  began  to  scorch,  when  the  rack  began  to  dislo- 


334  LOYE. 

cate  the  bones;  when  all  the  instruments  of  torture  were 
wreaking  their  hellish  vengeance,  unless  the  supernatural  hand 
of  God  should  be  mightily  upon  you,  I  am  sure  that  in  your 
weakness  you  would  deny  your  Master,  and  in  the  hour  of  peril 
would  forsake  the  Lord  that  bought  you.  True,  the  love  of 
Christ  in  the  heart,  when  sustained  by  his  grace,  is  strong 
enough  to  bear  us  through ;  but  I  am  afi-aid  that  with  many 
of  us  here  present,  if  we  had  no  more  love  than  we  have  now, 
we  should  come  out  from  the  Inquisition  miserable  apostates 
from  the  faith.  But  now  remember  Christ.  He  was  exposed 
to  tortures,  winch  were  really  more  tremendous,  far.  There 
is  no  engine  of  Romish  cruelty  that  can  equal  that  dreadful  tor- 
ture which  forced  a  sweat  of  blood  from  every  pore.  Christ 
was  scourged  and  he  was  crucified  ;  but  there  were  other  woes 
unseen  by  us,  which  were  the  soul  of  his  agonies.  Now,  if 
Christ  in  the  hour  of  sore  trial  had  said,  "  I  disown  my  disci- 
ples, I  will  not  die,"  he  might  have  come  down  from  the  cross ; 
and  who  could  accuse  him  of  evil?  He  owed  us  nothing ;  we 
could  do  nothing  for  him.  Poor  worms  would  be  all  that  he 
would  disown.  But  our  Master,  even  when  the  blood-sweat 
covered  him  as  with  a  mantle  of  gore,  never  thought  of  dis- 
owning us — NEVER.  "  My  Father,"  said  he  once,  "  if  it  be 
possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me."  But  there  was  always 
the  "if  it  be  possible."  If  it  be  possible  to  save  without  it, 
let  the  cup  pass ;  but  if  not,  thy  will  be  done.  You  never 
hear  him  say  in  Pilate's  hall  one  word  that  would  let  you  im- 
agine that  he  was  sorry  he  had  undertaken  so  costly  a  sacri- 
fice for  us ;  and  when  his  hands  are  pierced,  and  when  he  is 
parched  with  fever,  and  his  tongue  is  dried  up  like  a  potsherd, 
and  his  whole  body  is  dissolved  into  the  dust  of  death,  you 
never  hear  a  groan  or  a  shriek  that  looks  like  going  back.  It 
is  the  cry  of  one  determined  to  go  on,  though  he  knows  he 
must  die  on  his  onward  march.  It  w^as  love  that  could  not  be 
staid  by  death,  but  overcame  all  the  horrors  of  the  grave. 

Now,  what  say  we  to  this  ?  We  who  live  in  these  gentler, 
times  are  we  about  to  give  up  our  Master,  when  we  are  tried 
and  tempted  for  him  ?  Young  man  in  the  workshop !  it  is  your 
lot  to  be  jeered  at  because  you  are  a  follower  of  the  Saviour ; 


LOVE.  335 

and  will  you  turn  back  from  Christ  becaiLse  of  a  jeer  ?  Young 
woman  !  you  are  laughed  at  because  you  profess  the  religion  of 
Cln-ist ;  shall  a  laugh  dissolve  the  link  of  love  that  knits  you  to 
him,  when  all  the  roar  of  hell  could  not  divert  his  love  from 
you?  And  you  who  are  suffering  because  you  maintain  a  re- 
ligious principle,  are  you  cast  out  from  men  ?  will  you  not  bear 
that  the  house  should  be  stripj:)ed,  and  that  you  shall  eat  the 
bread  of  poverty,  rather  than  dishonor  such  a  Lord  ?  Will 
you  not  go  forth  from  this  place,  by  the  help  of  God's  Spirit, 
vowing  and  declaring  that  in  life,  come  poverty,  come  wealth 
— in  death,  come  pain,  or  come  what  may,  you  are  and  ever 
must  be  the  Lord's  ?  for  this  is  written  on  your  heart,  "  We 
love  him,  because  he  fii'st  loved  us." 


SEEMON     XXI. 
THE    GREAT    EEVIVAL. 

"  The  Lord  hath  made  bare  his  holy  arm  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  nations  ; 
and  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  see  the  salvation  of  our  God." — Isaiah, 
lii.  10. 

When  the  heroes  of  old  prepared  for  the  fight,  they  put  on 
their  armor ;  but  whea  God  prepares  for  battle  he  makes  bare 
bis  arm.  Man  has  to  look  two  ways — to  his  own  defense,  as 
well  as  to  the  offense  of  his  enemy ;  God  hath  but  one  direc- 
tion in  which  to  cast  his  eye — the  overthrow  of  his  foeman ; 
and  he  disregards  all  measures  of  defense,  and  scorns  all 
armor.  He  makes  hare  his  arm  in  the  sight  of  all  the  people. 
When  men  would  do  their  work  in  earnest,  too,  they  some- 
times strip  themselves,  like  that  warrior  of  old,  who,  when  he 
went  out  to  battle  with  the  Turks, would  never  fight  them  except 
with  the  bare  arm.  "  Such  things  as  they,"  said  he,  "  I  need 
not  fear ;  they  have  more  reason  to  fear  my  bare  arm  than  I 
their  cimeter."  Men  feel  that  they  are  prepared  for  a  work 
when  they  have  cast  away  their  cumbrous  garments.  And  so 
the  prophet  represents  the  Lord  as  laying  aside  for  awhile  the 
garments  of  his  dignity,  and  making  bare  his  arm,  that  he 
may  do  his  work  in  earnest,  and  accomplish  his  purpose  for 
the  establishment  of  his  church. 

Now,  lea\  ing  the  figure,  which  is  a  very  great  one,  I  would 
remind  you  that  its  meaning  is  fully  carried  out,  whenever 
God  is  pleased  to  send  a  great  revival  of  religion.  My  heart 
is  glad  within  me  this  day,  for  I  am  the  bearer  of  good  tidings. 
My  soul  has  been  made  exceedingly  full  of  happiness,  by  the 
tidings  of  a  great  revival  of  religion  throughout  the  United 
States.  Some  hundred  years,  or  more,  ago,  it  pleased  the 
Lord  to  send  one  of  the  most  marvelous  religious  awakenings 
'that  was  ever  known ;  the  whole  of  the  United  States  seemed 


THE    GKEAT   REVIVAL.  337 

sLaken  from  end  to  end  with  enthusiasm  for  hearing  the  Word 
of  God ;  and  now,  after  the  lapse  of  a  century,  the  Hke  has 
occurred  again.  The  monetary  pressure  has  at  length  de- 
parted ;  but  it  has  left  behind  it  the  wreck  of  many  mighty 
fortunes.  Many  men,  who  w^ere  once  princes,  have  now  be- 
come beggars,  and  in  Americn,  more  than  in  England,  men 
have  learned  the  instability  of  all  human  things.  The  minds 
of  men,  thus  weaned  from  the  earth  by  terrible  and  unexpected 
panic,  seem  prepared  to  receive  tidings  from  a  better  land,  and 
to  turn  their  exertions  in  a  heavenly  direction.  You  will  be 
told  by  any  one  who  is  conversant  with  the  present  state  of 
America,  that  w^herever  you  go  there  are  the  most  remarkable 
signs  that  religion  is  progressing  with  majestic  strides.  The 
great  revival,  as  it  is  now  called,  has  become  the  common 
market  talk  of  merchants  ;  it  is  the  theme  of  every  newspaper ; 
even  the  secular  press  remark  it,  for  it  has  become  so  astonish- 
ing that  all  ranks  and  classes  of  men  seem  to  have  been  affected 
by  it.  Apparently  without  any  cause  whatever,  fear  has  taken 
hold  of  the  hearts  of  men  ;  a  thrill  seems  to  be  shot  through 
every  breast  at  once ;  and  it  is  affirmed  by  men  of  good  repute, 
that  there  are,  at  this  time,  towns  in  New  England  where  you 
could  not,  even  if  you  searched,  find  one  solitary  unconverted 
person.  So  marvelous — I  had  almost  said,  so  miraculous — 
has  been  the  sudden  and  instantaneous  spread  of  religion 
throughout  the  great  empire,*  that  it  is  scarcely  possible  for  us 
to  believe  the  half  of  it,  even  though  it  should  be  told  us. 
Now,  as  you  are  aware,  I  have  at  all  times  been  peculiarly 
jealous  and  suspicious  of  revivals.  Whenever  I  see  a  man  who 
is  called  a  revivalist,  I  always  set  him  down  for  a  cipher.  I 
would  scorn  the  taking  of  such  a  title  as  that  to  myself.  If 
God  pleases  to  make  use  of  a  man  for  the  promoting  of  a  re- 
vival, well  and  good ;  but  for  any  man  to  assume  the  title  and 
office  of  a  revivalist,  and  go  about  the  country,  believing  that 
wherever  he  goes  he  is  the  vessel  of  meixjy  appointed  to  convey 
a  revival  of  religion,  is,  I  think,  an  assumption  far  too  arrogant 
for  any  man  who  has  the  slightest  degree  of  modesty.  And 
again,  there  are  a  large  number  of  revivals,  which  occur  every 
now  and  then  in  our  towns,  and  sometimes  in  our  city,  which 

16 


338  THE   GREAT   REVIVAL. 

I  believe  to  be  spurious  and  worthless.  I  have  heard  of  the 
people  crowding  in  the  morning,  the  afternoon  and  the  evening 
to  hear  some  noted  revivaUst,  and  under  his  preaching  some 
have  screamed,  have  shrieked,  have  fallen  down  on  the  floor, 
have  rolled  themselves  in  convulsions,  and  afterwards,  when 
he  has  set  a  form  for  penitents,  employing  one  or  two  decoy- 
ducks  to  run  out  from  the  rest  and  make  a  confession  of  sin, 
hundreds  have  come  forward,  impressed  by  that  one  sermon, 
and  declared  that  they  were,  there  and  then,  turned  from  the 
error  of  their  ways ;  and  it  was  only  last  w^eek  I  saw  a  record 
of  a  certain  place,  in  our  own  country,  giving  an  account,  that 
on  such  a  day,  under  the  preaching  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  So-and-so, 
seventeen  persons  were  thoroughly  sanctified,  twenty-eight 
were  convinced  of  sin,  and  twenty-nine  received  the  blessing 
of  justification.  Then  come,  the  next  day,  so  many  more ; 
the  following  day  so  many  more ;  and  afterwards  they  are  all 
cast  up  together,  making  a  grand  total  of  some  hundreds,  who 
have  been  blessed  during  three  services,  under  the  ministry  of 
Mr.  So-and-so.  All  that  I  call  farce !  There  may  be  some- 
thing very  good  in  it ;  but  the  outside  looks  to  me  to  be  so 
rotten,  that  I  should  scarcely  trust  myself  to  think  that  the 
good  within  comes  to  any  very  great  amount.  When  people 
go  to  work  to  calculate  so  exactly  by  arithmetic,  it  always 
strikes  me  they  have  mistaken  what  they  are  at.  We  may 
easily  say  that  so  many  were  added  to  the  church  on  a  certain 
occasion,  but  to  take  a  separate  census  of  the  convinced,  the 
justified  and  the  sanctified,  is  absurd.  You  will,  therefore,  be 
surprised  at  finding  me  speaking  of  revival ;  but  you  will, 
perhaps,  not  be  quite  so  surprised  when  I  endeavor  to  explain 
what  I  mean  by  an  earnest  and  intense  desire,  which  I  feel  in 
my  heart,  that  God  would  be  pleased  to  send  throughout  this 
country  a  revival  like  that  which  has  just  commenced  in 
America,  and  which,  we  trust,  will  long  continue  there. 

I  should  endeavor  to  mark,  in  the  first  place,  the  cause  of 
every  revival  of  true  religion  /  secondly,  the  consequences  of 
such  revival ;  then,  thirdly,  I  shall  give  a  caution  or  two^  that 
we  make  not  mistake  in  this  matter,  and  conceive  that  to  be 
God's  work  which  is  only  man's ;  and  then  I  shall  conclude 


THE   GREAT   REVIVAL.  339 

by  making  an  exhortation  to  all  my  brethren  in  the  faith  of 
Christ,  to  labor  and  pray  for  a  revival  of  religion  in  the  midst 
of  our  churclies. 

I.  First,  then,  the  cause  of  a  tPwUE  revival.  The  mere 
worldly  man  does  not  understand  a  revival ;  he  can  not  make 
it  out.  Why  is  it,  that  a  sudden  fit  of  godliness,  as  he  would 
call  it,  a  kind  of  sacred  epidemic,  should  seize  upon  a  mass  of 
people  all  at  once  ?  What  can  be  the  cause  of  it  ?  It  fre- 
quently occurs  in  the  absence  of  all  great  evangelists  ;  it  can 
not  be  traced  to  any  particular  means.  There  have  been  no 
special  agencies  used  in  order  to  bring  it  about — no  machinery 
supplied,  no  societies  established  ;  and  yet  it  has  come,  just 
like  a  heavenly  hyrricane,  sweeping  every  thing  before  it.  It 
has  rushed  across  the  land,  and  of  it  men  have  said,  "  The 
wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth ;  we  hear  the  sound  thereof,  but 
we  can  not  tell  whence  it  cometh  or  wiiither  it  goeth."  What 
is,  then,  the  cause  ?  Our  answer  is,  if  a  revival  be  true  and 
real,  it  is  caused  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  by  him  alone.  When 
Peter  stood  up  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  and  j^reached  that 
memorable  sermon  by  which  three  thousand  persons  were 
converted,  can  we  attribute  the  remarkable  success  of  his 
ministry  to  anything  else  but  the  ministry  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 
I  read  the  notes  of  Peter's  discourse ;  it  was  certainly  very 
simple  ;  it  was  a  plain  narration  of  facts ;  it  was  certainly  very 
bold,  very  cutting,  and  pointed,  and  personal,  for  lie  did  not 
blush  to  tell  them  that  they  had  put  to  death  the  Lord  of  life 
and  glory,  and  were  guilty  of  his  blood ;  but  on  the  mere 
surface  of  the  thing,  I  should  be  apt  to  say  that  I  had  read 
many  a  sermon  far  more  likely  to  be  effective  than  Peter's ; 
and  I  believe  there  have  been  many  preachers  who  have  lived, 
whose  sermons  when  read  would  have  been  far  more  notable 
and  far  more  regarded,  at  least  by  the  critic,  than  the  sermon 
of  Peter.  It  seems  to  have  been  exceedingly  simple  and 
suitable,  and  extremely  earnest,  but  none  of  these  things  are 
so  eminently  remarkable  as  to  be  the  cause  of  such  extraordi- 
nary success. 

What,  then,  was  the  reason  ?     And  we  reply,  once  more, 
the  same  word  which  the  Holy  Spirit  blesses  to  the  conversion 


840  THE   GREAT   REVIVAL. 

of  one,  ne  migiit,  if  he  pleased,  bless  to  the  conversion  of  a 
thousand :  and  I  am  persuaded  that  the  meanest  preacher  in 
Christendom  might  come  into  this  pulpit  this  morning,  and 
preach  the  most  simple  sermon,  in  the  most  uneducated  style, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit,  if  he  so  willed  it,  might  bless  the  sermon 
to  the  conversion  of  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  within  this 
place :  for  his  arm  is  not  shortened,  his  power  is  not  straitened, 
and  as  long  as  he  is  Omnii^otent,  it  is  ours  to  believe  that  he 
can  do  whatsoever  seemeth  him  good.  Do  not  imagine,  when 
you  hear  of  a  sermon  being  made  useful,  that  it  was  the  ser- 
mon itself  that  did  the  work.  Conceive  not,  because  a  certain 
preacher  may  have  been  greatly  blessed  for  the  conversion  of 
souls,  that  there  is  any  thing  in  the  preacher.  God  forbid  that 
any  preacher  should  arrogate  such  a  thing  to  himself.  Any 
other  preacher,  blessed  in  the  same  manner,  would  be  as  use- 
ful, and  any  other  sermon,  provided  it  be  truthful  and  earnest, 
might  be  as  much  blessed  as  that  particular  sermon  which  has 
become  notable  by  reason  of  the  multitudes  who  by  it  have 
been  brought  to  Christ.  The  Spirit  of  God,  when  he  pleaseth, 
blows  upon  the  sons  of  men.  He  finds  a  people  hard  and  care- 
less ;  he  casts  a  desire  into  their  minds — -he  sows  it  broadcast 
into  their  spirits — a  thought  towards  the  house  of  the  Lord, 
and  straightway,  they  know  not  why,  they  flock  in  multitudes 
to  hear  the  Word  preached.  He  casts  the  seed,  the  same  seed, 
into  the  preacher's  mind,  and  he  knows  not  how,  but  he  feels 
more  earnest  than  he  did  before.  When  he  goes  to  his  pulpit, 
he  goes  to  it  as  to  a  solemn  sacrifice,  and  there  he  preaches, 
believing  that  great  things  will  be  the  efi'ect  of  his  ministry. 
The  time  of  prayer  cometh  round  ;  Christians  are  found  meet- 
ing together  in  large  numbers ;  they  can  not  tell  what  it  is 
that  influences  them,  but  they  feel  they^must  go  up  to  the 
house  of  the  Lord  to  pray.  There  are  earnest  prayers  lifted 
up ;  there  are  earnest  sermons  preached,  and  there  are  earnest 
hearers.  Then  God  the  Almighty  One  is  pleased  to  soften 
hard  hearts,  and  subdue  the  stout-hearted,  and  bring  them  to 
know  the  truth.  The  only  real  cause  is,  his  Spirit  working  in 
the  minds  of  men. 

But  while  this  is  the  only  actual  cause,  yet  there  are  instru- 


THE   GKEAT   BEYIVAL.  341 

mental  causes;  and  the  main  instrumental  cause  of  a  great  re- 
vival must  be  the  bold,  faithful,  fearless  preaching  of  the  truth 
as  it  is  in  Jesus.  AVhy,  brethren,  we  want  every  now  and 
then  to  have  a  reformation.  One  reformation  will  never  serve 
the  church ;  she  needs  continually  to  be  wound  up,  and  set 
a-going  afresh ;  for  her  works  run  down,  and  she  does  not  act 
as  she  used  to  do.  The  bold,  bald  doctrines  that  Luther  brought 
out,  began  at  last  to  be  a  little  modified,  until  lay  after  layer 
was  deposited  upon  them,  and  at  last  the  old  rocky  truth  was 
covered  up,  and  there  grew  up6h  the  superficial  subsoil  an 
abundance  of  green  and  flowery  errors,  that  looked  fair  and 
beautiful,  but  were  in  no  way  whatever  related  to  the  truth, 
except  as  they  wore  the  products  of  its  decay.  Then  there 
came  bold  men  who  brought  the  truth  out  again,  and  said, 
"  Clear  away  this  rubbish  ;  let  the  blast  light  upon  these  de- 
ceitful beauties ;  we  want  them  not ;  bring  out  the  old  truth 
once  more !"  And  it  came  out.  But  the  tendency  of  the 
church  perpetually  is,  to  be  covering  up  its  own  naked  sim- 
plicity, forgetting  that  the  truth  is  never  so  beautiful  as  when 
it  stands  in  its  own  unadorned,  God-given  glory.  And  now, 
at  this  time,  we  want  to  have  the  old  truths  restored  to  their 
places.  The  subtleties  and  the  refinements  of  the  .preacher 
must  be  laid  aside.  We  must  give  up  the  grand  distinctions 
of  the  schoolmen,  and  all  the  lettered  technicalities  of  men 
who  have  studied  theology  as  a  system,  but  have  not  felt  the 
power  of  it  in  their  hearts ;  and  when  the  good  old  truth  is 
once  more  preached  by  men  whose  lips  are  touched  as  with  a 
live  coal  from  off  the  altar,  this  shall  be  the  instrument,  in  the 
liand  of  the  Spirit,  for  bringing  about  a  great  and  thorough 
revival  of  religion  in  the  land. 

But  added  to  this,  there  must  be  the  earnest  i-)rayers  of  the 
church.  All  in  vain  the  most  indefatigable  ministry,  unless 
the  church  waters  the  seed  sown,  with  her  abundant  tears. 
Every  revival  has  been  commenced  and  attended  by  a  large 
amount  of  prayer.  Jm  the  city  of  New  York  at  the  present 
moment,  there  is  not,  I  believe,  one  single  hour  of  the  day, 
wherein  Christians  are  not  gathered  together  for  prayer.  One 
church  opens  its  doora  from  five  o'clock  till  six,  for  prayer ; 


342  THE   GREAT   REVIVAL. 

another  church  opens  from  six  to  seven,  and  summons  its  pray- 
ing men  to  offer  the  sacrifice  of  supplication.  Six  o'clock  is 
past,  and  men  are  gone  to  their  labor.  Another  class  find  it 
then  convenient — such  as  those,  perhaps,  who  go  to  business 
at  eight  or  nine — and  from  seven  to  eight  there  is  another 
j)rayer  meeting.  From  eight  to  nine  there  is  another,  in 
another  part  of  the  city  ;  and  what  is  most  marvelous,  at  high 
noon,  from  twelve  to  one,  in  the  midst  of  the  city  of  New 
York,  there  is  held  a  prayer  meeting  in  a  large  room,  which 
is  crammed  to  the  doors  every  day,  with  hundreds  standing 
outside.  This  prayer  meeting  is  made  u})  of  merchants  of  the 
city,  who  can  spare  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  go  in  and  say  a 
word  of  prayer,  and  then  leave  again ;  and  then  a  fresh  com- 
pany come  in  to  fill  up  the  ranks,  so  that  it  is  supposed  that 
many  hundreds  assemble  in  that  one  place  for  prayer  during 
the  appointed  hour.  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  revival. 
If  this  were  done  in  London — if  we  for  once  would  outvie  old 
Rome,  who  kept  her  monks  in  her  sanctuaries,  always  at 
prayer,  both  by  night  and  by  day — if  we  together  could  keep 
up  one  golden  chain  of  prayer,  link  after  link  of  holy  brother- 
hood being  joined  together  in  supj)lication,  then  might  we  ex- 
pect an  abundant  outpouring  of  the  divine  Spirit  from  the 
Lord  our  God.  The  Holy  Spirit,  as  the  actual  agent — the 
Word  preached,  and  the  prayers  of  the  people,  as  the  instru- 
ments— and  we  have  thus  explained  the  cause  of  a  true  revival 
of  rehgion. 

II.  But  now  w^hat  are  the  coj^sequexces  of  a  revival  op 
RELIGION  ?  Why  the  consequences  are  every  thing  that  our 
hearts  could  desire  for  the  church's  good.  When  a  revival 
of  religion  comes  into  a  nation,  the  minister  begins  to  be 
warmed.  It  is  said  that  in  America  the  most  slee]3y  preachers 
have  begun  to  wake  up  ;  they  have  warmed  themselves  at  the 
general  fire,  and  men  who  could  not  preach  without  notes,  and 
could  not  preach  with  them  to  any  purpose  at  all,  have  found 
it  in  their  hearts  to  speak  right  out,  sltM  speak  with  all  their 
might  to  the  people.  When  there  comes  a  revival,  the  minis- 
ter all  of  a  sudden  finds  that  the  usual  forms  and  convention- 
alities of  the  pulpit  are  not  exactly  suitable  to  the  times.     He 


THE  GREAT   REVIVAL.  343 

breaks  through  one  hedge ;  then  he  finds  himself  in  an  awk- 
ward position,  and  he  has  to  break  through  another.  He  finds 
himself  perhaps  on  a  Sunday  morning,  though  a  Doctor  of 
Divinity,  actually  telling  an  anecdote — lowering  the  dignity 
of  the  pulpit  by  actually  using  a  simile  or  metaphor — some- 
times perhaps  accidentally  making  his  people  smile,  and  what 
is  also  a  great  sin  in  these  solid  theologians,  now  and  then 
dropping  a  tear.  He  does  not  exactly  know  how  it  is,  but  the 
people  catch  up  his  words.  "  I  must  have  something  good  for 
them,"  he  says.  He  just  burns  that  old  lot  of  sermons ;  or  he 
puts  them  under  the  bed,  and  gets  some  new  ones,  or  gets 
none  at  all,  but  just  gets  his  text,  and  begins  to  cry,  "  Men 
and  brethren,  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  you  shall 
be  saved."  The  old  deacons  say,  "  What  is  the  matter  with 
our  minister  ?"  The  old  ladies,  who  have  heard  him  for  many 
years,  and  slept  in  the  front  of  the  gallery  so  regularly,  begin  to 
rouse,  and  say,  "I  wonder  what  has  happened  to  himj  how 
can  it  be  ?  Why,  he  preaches  like  a  man  on  fii-Q.  The  tear 
runs  over  at  his  eye  ;  his  soul  is  full  of  love  for  souls."  They 
can  not  make  it  out ;  they  have  often  said  he  was  dull  and 
dreary  and  drowsy.  How  is  it  all  this  is  changed  ?  "^Vliy,  it 
is  the  revival.  The  revival  has  touched  the  minister ;  the  sun, 
shining  so  brightly,  lias  melted  some  of  the  snow  on  the  moun- 
tain-top, and  it  is  running  down  in  fertilizing  streams,  to  bless 
the  valleys ;  and  the  people  down  below  are  refreshed  by  the 
ministrations  of  the  man  of  God  who  has  awakened  himself 
up  from  his  sleep,  and  finds  himself,  like  another  Elijah,  made 
strong  for  forty  days'  labor.  Well,  then,  directly  after  that  the 
revival  begins  to  touch  the  people  at  large.  The  congregation 
was  once  numbered  by  the  empty  seats,  rather  than  by  the 
full  ones.  But  on  a  sudden — the  minister  does  not  under 
stand  it — he  finds  the  people  coming  to  hear  him.  He  never 
was  popular,  never  hoped  to  be.  All  at  once  he  wakes  up  and 
finds  himself  famous,  so  far  as  a  large  congregation  can  make 
him  so.  There  are  the  people,  and  how  they  listen  I  They 
are  all  awake,  all  in  earnest ;  they  lean  their  heads  forward, 
they  put  their  hands  to  their  ears.  His  voice  is  feeble  ;  they 
try  to  help  him  ;  they  arc  doing  any  thing  so  that  they  may 


344  THE   GREAT  REVIVAL. 

hear  the  Word  of  Life.  And  then  the  members  of  the  church 
open  their  eyes  and  see  the  house  full,  and  they  say,  "  How 
has  this  come  about  ?  We  ought  to  pray."  A  prayer  meet- 
ing is  summoned.  There  have  been  five  or  six  in  the  vestry : 
now  there  are  five  or  six  hundred,  and  they  turn  into  the 
church.  And  oh  !  how  they  pray !  That  old  stager,  who 
used  to  pray  for  twenty  minutes,  finds  it  now  convenient  to 
confine  himself  to  five ;  and  that  good  old  man,  who  always 
used  to  repeat  the  same  form  of  prayer  when  he  stood  up,  and 
talked  about  the  horse  that  rushed  into  battle,  and  the  oil 
from  vessel  to  vessel,  and  all  that,  leaves  all  these  things  at 
home,  and  just  prays,  "  O  Lord,  save  sinners,"  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake."  And  there  are  sobs  and  groans  heard  in  the  prayer 
meetings.  It  is  evident  that  not  one,  but  all,  are  praying ;  the 
whole  mass  seems  moved  to  sujoplication.  How  is  this  again  ? 
W^hy,  it  is  just  the  effect  of  the  revival,  for  when  the  revival 
truly  comes,  the  minister  and  the  congregation  and  the  church 
will  receive  good  by  it. 

But  it  does  not  end  here.  The  members  of  the  church 
grow  more  solemn,  more  serious.  Family  duties  are  better 
attended  to ;  the  home  circle  is  brought  under  better  culture. 
Those  who  could  not  spare  time  for  family  prayer,  find  they 
can  do  so  now ;  those  who  had  no  opportunity  for  teaching 
their  children,  now  dare  not  go  a  day  without  doing  it,  for 
they  hear  that  there  are  children  converted  in  the  Sabbath 
School.  There  are  twice  as  many  in  the  Sabbath  School  now 
as  there  used  to  be ;  and  what  is  wonderful,  the  little  children 
meet  together  to  pray ;  their  little  hearts  are  touched,  and 
many  of  them  show  signs  of  a  work  of  grace  begun ;  and 
fathers  and  mothers  think  they  must  try  what  they  can  do  for 
their  families :  if  God  is  blessing  little  children,  why  should 
he  not  bless  theirs  ? 

And  then,  when  you  see  the  members  of  the  church  going 
up  to  the  house  of  God,  you  mark  Avith  what  a  steady  and 
sober  air  they  go.  Perhaps  they  talk  on  the  way,  but  they 
talk  of  Jesus ;  and  if  they  whisper  together  at  the  gates  of 
the  sanctuary,  it  is  no  longer  idle  gossip ;  it  is  no  remark 
about,  "  how  do  you  like  the  preacher  ?     What  did  you  think 


TUE   GREAT   REVIVAL.  345 

of  him  ?  Did  you  notice  So-and-so ?"  Ob,  no !  "I  pray  the 
Lord  that  he  miglit  bless  the  word  of  his  servant,  that  he 
might  send  an  unction  from  on  high,  tliat  the  dying  flame  may 
be  kindled,  and  that  where  there  is  life,  it  may  be  promoted 
and  strengthened,  and  receive  fresh  vigor."  This  is  their 
whole  conversation. 

And  then  comes  the  great  result.  There  is  an  inquirers' 
meeting  held  :  the  good  brother  who  presides  over  it  is  aston- 
ished ;  he  never  saw  so  many  coming  in  his  life  before. 
"  AVTiy,"  says  he,  "  there  is  a  hundred,  at  least,  come  to  con- 
fess what  the  Lord  has  done  for  their  souls  !  Here  are  fifty 
come  all  at  once  to  say  that  under  such  a  sermon  they  were 
brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  "Who  hath  begotten 
me  these  ?  How  hath  it  come  about  ?  IIow  can  it  be  ?  Is 
not  the  Lord  a  great  God  that  hath  wrought  such  a  work  as 
this  ?"  And  then  the  converts  who  are  thus  brought  into  the 
church,  if  the  revival  continues  are  very  earnest  ones.  You 
never  saw  such  a  people.  The  outsiders  call  them  fanatics.  It 
is  a  blessed  fanaticism.  Others  say,  they  are  nothing  but  en- 
thusiasts. It  is  a  heavenly  enthusiasm.  Every  thing  that  is 
done  is  done  with  such  spirit.  If  they  sing,  it  is  like  the 
crashing  thunder;  if  they  pray,  it  is  like  the  swift,  sharp  flash 
of  lightning,  lighting  up  the  darkness  of  the  cold-hearted,  and 
making  them  for  a  moment  feel  that  there  is  something  in 
prayer.  When  the  minister  preaches,  he  preaches  like  a  Bo- 
anerges, and  when  the  church  is  gathered  together,  it  is  with 
a  hearty  good  will.  When  they  give,  they  give  with  enlat-ged 
liberality  ;  when  they  visit  the  sick,  they  do  it  with  gentleness, 
meekness,  and  love.  Every  thing  is  done  with  a  single  eye  to 
God's  gloiy;  not  of  men,  but  by  the  power  of  God.  Oh! 
that  we  might  see  such  a  revival  as  this ! 

But,  blessed  be  God,  it  does  not  end  here.  The  revival  of 
the  church  then  touches  the  rest  of  society.  Men  who  do  not 
come  forward  and  profess  religion,  are  more  punctual  in  at- 
tending the  means  of  grace.  Men  that  used  to  swear,  give  it 
up  ;  they  find  it  is  not  suitable  for  the  times.  Men  that  pro- 
faned the  Sabbath,  and  that  despised  God,  find  it  will  not  do ; 
they  give  it  all  up.    Times  get  changed ;  morality  prevails; 

16* 


346  THE    GREAT    REVIVAL. 

the  lower  ranks  are  affected.  They  buy  a  sermon  where  they 
used  to  buy  some  penny  tract  of  nonsense.  The  higher  orders 
are  also  touched ;  they  too  are  brought  to  hear  the  word. 
Her  ladyship,  in  her  carriage,  who  never  would  have  thought 
of  going  to  so  mean  a  place  as  a  conventicle,  does  not  now 
care  where  she  goes  so  long  as  she  is  blessed.  She  wants  to 
hear  the  truth ;  and  a  drayman  pulls  his  horses  up  by  the  side 
of  her  ladyship's  pair  of  grays,  and  they  both  go  in  and  bend 
together  before  the  throne  of  sovereign  grace.  All  classes  are 
affected.  Even  the  senate  feels  it ;  the  statesman  himself  is 
surprised  at  it,  and  wonders  what  all  these  things  mean.  Even 
the  monarch  on  the  throne  feels  she  has  become  the  monarch 
of  a  people  better  than  she  knew  before,  and  that  God  is  doing 
something  in  her  realms  past  all  her  thought — that  a  great 
King  is  swaying  a  better  scepter  and  exerting  a  better  influ- 
ence than  even  her  excellent  example.  Nor  does  it  even  end 
there.  Heaven  is  filled.  One  by  one  the  converts  die,  and 
heaven  gets  fuller ;  the  harps  of  heaven  are  louder,  the  songs 
of  angels  are  inspired  with  new  melody,  for  they  rejoice  to  see 
the  sons  of  men  prostrate  before  the  throne.  The  universe  is 
made  glad  :  it  is  God's  own  summer ;  it  is  the  universal  spring. 
The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come;  the  voice  of  the 
turtle  is  heard  in  our  land.  Oh  !  that  God  might  send  us  such 
a  revival  of  religion  as  this ! 

I  thank  God,  that  we,  as  a  people,  have  had  great  cause  to 
thank  him  that  we  have  had  a  measure  of  revival  of  this  kind, 
but  nothing  compared  A\"ith  what  we  desire.  I  have  heard  of 
revivals,  where  twenties,  and  thirties,  and  forties,  and  fifties, 
were  gathered  in ;  but,  tell  it  to  the  honor  of  our  God,  there 
is  never  a  month  passes,  but  our  baptismal  pool  is  opened,  and 
never  a  communion  Sabbath,  but  we  receive  many  into  the 
fold  of  the  Lord.  As  many  as  three  hundred  in  one  year  have 
we  added  to  the  church,  and  still  the  cry  is,  *'  They  come ! 
they  come !"  The  Lord  hath  been  very  gracious  to  us,  and 
to  him  be  the  honor  of  it.  But  we  want  more.  Our  souls  are 
greedy — covetous  for  God.  Oh !  that  we  might  be  all  con- 
verted ! 


THE   GREAT   REVIVAL.  347 

"  Wo  long  to  see  the  churches  full, 
•  That  all  the  chosen  race, 

May  with  one  voice,  and  heart,  and  tongue, 
Sing  his  redeeming  grace." 

And  we  have  to  thank  God,  too,  that  it  has  not  ended  there ; 
for  we  liave  Exeter  Hall  full,  Westminster  Abbey  full,  and 
this  place  full  too  ;  and  though  we  may  not  altogether  agree 
in  sentiment  with  all  that  preach,-yet  God  bless  them  all !  So 
long  as  Christ  is  preached,  I  rejoice,  yea,  and  will  rejoice ;  and 
I  would  to  God  that  every  large  building  in  London  were 
crowded  too,  and  that  every  man  who  preached  the  Word 
were  followed  by  tens  of  thousands,  who  would  hear  the  truth. 
May  that  day  soon  come !  and  there  is  one  heart  which  will 
rejoice  in  such  a  day  more  than  any  of  you — a  heart  that  shall 
always  beat  the  highest  when  it  sees  God  glorified,  though  our 
own  honor  should  decrease. 

ni.  Now  we  shall  have  to  turn  to  the  third  point,  which 
was  A  CAUTION.  When  Christmas  Evans  preached  in  Wales, 
during  a  time  of  revival,  he  used  to  make  the  people  dance  ; 
the  congregation  were  so  excited  under  his  ministry  that  they 
positively  danced.  Now  I  do  not  believe  that  dancing  was 
the  work  of  the  Spirit.  Their  being  stirred  in  their  hearts 
might  be  the  Holy  Spirit's  work,  but  the  Holy  Spirit  does  not 
care  to  make  people  dance  under  sermons  ;  no  good  comes  of 
it.  Now  and  then  among  our  Methodist  friends  there  is  a 
great  break  out,  and  we  hear  of  a  young  woman  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  sermon  getting  on  the  top  of  a  form  and  turning 
round  and  round  in  ecstasy,  till  she  falls  down  in  a  faintingfit, 
and  they  cry,  "  Glory  be  to  God."  Now  we  do  not  believe 
that  this  is  the  work  of  the  Spirit ;  we  believe  it  is  ridiculous 
nonsense,  and  nothing  more.  In  the  old  revivals  in  America 
a  hundred  years  ago,  commonly  called  "  the  great  awakening," 
there  were  many  strange  things,  such  as  continual  shrieks  and 
screams,  and  knockings,  and  twitchings,  under  the  services.  We 
can  not  call  that  the  work  of  the  Spirit.  Even  the  great  Whit- 
field's revival  at  Cambuslang,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
remarkable  revivals  that  was  ever  known,  was  attended  by 
some  things  that  wo  can  not  but  regard  as  superstitious  won- 


348  THE   GREAT   REVIVAL. 

ders.  People  were  so  excited,  that  they  did  not  know  what 
they  did.  Now,  if  in  any  revival  you  see  any  of  these  strange 
contortions  of  the  body,  always  distinguish  between  things 
that  differ.  The  Holy  Spirit's  work  is  with  the  mind,  not  with 
the  body  in  that  way.  It  is  not  the  will  of  God  that  such 
things  should  disgrace  the  proceedings.  I  believe  that  such 
things  are  the  result  of  Satanic  malice.  The  devil  sees  that 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  good  doing.  "  Now,"  says  he,  "  I'll 
spoil  it  all.  I'll  put  my  hoof  in  there,  and  do  a  world  of 
mischief.  There  are  souls  being  converted ;  I  will  get  them 
get  so  excited  that  they  will  do  ludicrous  things,  and  then 
it  will  all  be  brought  into  contempt."  Now,  if  you  see  any 
of  these  strange  things  arising,  look  out.  There  is  that  old 
Apollyon  busy,  trying  to  mar  the  work.  Put  such  vagaries 
down  as  soon  as  yon  can,  for  where  the  Spirit  works,  he  never 
works  against  his  own  precept,  and  his  precept  is,  "Let  all 
things  be  done  decently  and  in  order."  It  is  neither  decent 
nor  orderly  for  people  to  dance  under  the  sermon,  nor  howl, 
nor  scream,  while  the  gospel  is  being  preached  to  them,  and 
therefore  it  is  not  the  Spirit's  work  at  all,  but  mere  human  ex- 
citement. 

And  again,  remember  that  you  must  always  distinguish  be- 
tween man  and  man  in  the  work  of  revival.  While,  during  a 
revival  of  religion,  a  very  large  number  of  people  will  be  really 
converted,  there  will  be  a  very  considerable  portion  who  will 
be  merely  excited  with  animal  excitement,  aud  whose  conver- 
sion will  not  be  genuine.  Always  expect  that,  and  do  not  be 
surprised  if  you  see  it.  It  is  but  a  law  of  the  mind  that  men 
should  imitate  one  another,  and  it  seems  but  reasonable,  that 
when  one  person  is  truly  converted,  there  should  be  a  kind  of 
desire  to  imitate  it  in  another,  who  yet  is  not  a  possessor  of 
true  and  sovereign  grace.  Be  not  discouraged,  then,  if  you 
should  meet  with  this  in  the  midst  of  a  revival.  It  is  no  proof 
that  it  is  not  a  true  revival ;  it  is  only  a  proof  that  it  is  not 
true  in  that  particular  case. 

I  must  say,  once  more,  that  if  God  should  send  us  a  great 
revival  of  religion,  it  will  be  our  duty  not  to  relax  the  bonds 
of  discipline.    Some  churches,  when  they  increase  very  largely, 


THE   GKEAT   REVIYAL.  349 

are  apt  to  take  people  into  their  number  by  wholesale,  without 
due  and  proper  examination.  We  ought  to  be  just  as  strict 
in  the  paroxysms  of  a  revival  as  in  the  cooler  times  of  a  grad- 
ual increase,  and  if  tJie  Lord  sends  his  Spirit  like  a  hurricane, 
it  is  ours  to  deal  with  skill  with  the  sails,  lest  the  hurricane 
should  wreck  us  by  driving  us  upon  some  fell  rock  that  may 
do  us  serious  injury.  Take  care,  ye  that  are  officers  in  the 
church,  when  ye  see  the  peoj^le  stirred  up,  that  ye  exercise 
still  a  holy  caution,  lest  the  church  become  lowered  in  its 
standard  of  piety  by  the  admission  of  persons  not  truly  saTed. 

IV.  With  these  words  of  caution,  I  shall  now  gather  up  my 
strength,  and  with  all  my  might  labor  to  stir  you  up  to  seek 
of  God  a  great  revival  of  religion  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  this  land. 

Men,  brethren,  and  fathers,  the  Lord  God  hath  sent  us  a 
blessing.  One  blessing  is  the  earnest  of  many.  Drops  pie- 
cede  the  April  showers.  The  mercies  which  he  has  already 
bestowed  upon  us  are  but  the  forerunners  and  the  preludes  of 
something  greater  and  better  yet  to  come.  He  has  given  us 
the  former,  let  us  seek  of  him  the  latter  rain,  that  his  grace 
may  be  multiplied  among  us,  and  his  glory  may  be  increased. 
There  are  some  of  you  to  whom  I  address  myself  this  morning 
who  stand  in  the  way  of  any  revival  of  religion.  I  would 
affectionately  admonish  you,  and  beseech  you,  not  to  impede 
the  Lord's  own  work.  There  be  some  of  you,  perhaps,  here 
present  to-day  who  are  not  consistent  in  your  living.  And  yet 
you  are  professors  of  religion  ;  you  take  the  sacramental  cup 
into  your  hand  and  drink  its  sacred  wine,  but  still  you  live  as 
worldlings  live,  and  are  as  carnal  and  as  covetous  as  they.  Oh, 
my  brother,  you  are  a  serious  drawback  to  the  church's  in- 
crease. God  will  never  bless  an  unholy  people,  and  in  propor- 
tion to  our  un holiness,  he  will  withhold  the  blessing  from  us. 
Tell  me  of  a  church  that  is  inconsisteut,  you  shall  tell  me  of  a 
church  that  is  unblest.  God  will  first  sweep  the  house  before 
he  will  come  to  dwell  in  it.  He  will  have  his  church  i^ure  be- 
fore he  will  bless  it  with  all  the  blessings  of  his  grace.  Re- 
member that,  ye  inconsistent  ones,  and  turn  unto  God,  and  ask 
to  be  rendered  holy.   There  are  others  of  you  that  are  so  cold- 


350  THE    GREAT   REVIVAL. 

hearted,  that  you  stand  in  the  way  of  all  progress.  You  are 
a  skid  upon  the  wheels  of  the  church.  It  can  not  move  for 
you.  If  we  would  be  earnest,  you  put  your  cold  hand  on 
every  thing  that  is  bold  and  daring.  You  are  not  prudent 
and  zealous ;  if  you  were  so,  we  would  bless  God  for  giving 
you  that  prudence,  w^hich  is  a  jewel  for  which  we  ought  ever 
to  thank  God,  if  we  have  a  prudent  man  among  us.  But  there 
are  some  of  you  to  whom  I  allude,  who  are  prudent,  but  you 
are  cold.  You  have  no  earnestness,  you  do  not  labor  for  Christ, 
you  do  not  serve  him  with  all  your  strength.  And.  there  are 
others  of  you  who  are  imprudent  enough  to  push  others  on, 
but  never  go  forward  yourselves.  O  ye  Laodiceans,  ye  that 
are  neither  hot  nor  cold,  remember  what  the  Lord  hath  said 
of  you — "  So  then,  because  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I 
will  spue  thee  out  of  my  mouth."  And  so  will  he  do  with  you. 
Take  heed,  take  heed,  you  are  not  only  hurting  yourselves, 
but  you  are  injuring  the  church.  And  then  there  are  others 
of  you  who  are  such  sticklers  for  order,  so  given  to  every 
thing  that  has  been,  that  you  do  not  care  for  any  revival,  for 
fear  we  should  hurt  you.  You  would  not  have  the  church  re- 
paired, lest  we  should  touch  one  piece  of  the  venerable  moss 
that  coats  it.  You  would  not  cleanse  your  own  garment,  be- 
cause there  is  ancient  dirt  upon  it.  You  think  that  because  a 
tiling  is  ancient,  therefore  it  must  be  venerable.  You  are 
lovers  of  the  antique.  You  would  not  have  a  road  mended, 
because  your  grandfather  drove  his  wagon  along  the  rut  that 
is  there.  "  Let  it  always  be  there,"  you  say  ;  "  let  it  always 
be  knee  deep."  Did  not  your  grandfather  go  through  it  when 
it  was  knee  deep  with  mud,  and  why  should  not  you  do  the 
same  ?  It  was  good  enough  for  him,  and  it  is  good  enough 
for  you.  You  always  have  taken  an  easy  seat  in  the  church. 
You  never  saw  a  revival ;  you  do  not  want  to  see  it.  You 
believe  it  is  all  nonsense,  and  that  it  is  not  to  be  desired.  Yon 
look  back ;  you  find  no  precedent  for  it.  Doctor  So-and-so 
did  not  talk  about  it.  Your  venerable  minister  who  is  dead 
did  not  talk  so,  you  say  ;  therefore  it  is  not  needed.  We  need 
not  tell  you  it  is  scriptural ;  that  you  do  not  care  for.  It  is 
not  orderly,  you  say.     We  need  not  tell  you  the  thing  is 


THE   GREAT   REVIVAL.  351 

rig^t;  you  care  more  about  the  thing  being  ancient  than 
being  good.  Ah,  you  will  have  to  get  out  of  the  way  now, 
it  is  n't  any  good  ;  you  may  try  to  stop  us,  but  we  will  run 
over  you  if  you  do  not  get  out  (^  the  way.  With  a  little 
warning  we  shall  have  to  run  over  your  prejudices  and  incur 
your  anger.  But  your  prejudices  must  not,  can  not  restrain 
us.  The  chain  may  be  never  so  rusty  with  age,  and  never  so 
stamped  with  authority,  the  prisoner  is  always  happy  to  break 
it,  and  however  your  fetters  may  shackle  us,  we  will  dasli  them 
in  pieces  if  they  stand  in  the  way  of  the  progress  of  the  king- 
dom of  Christ. 

Having  thus  spoken  to  those  who  hinder,  I  want  to  speak 
to  you  who  love  Jesus  with  all  your  hearts,  and  want  to  pro- 
mote it.  Dear  friends,  I  beseech  you  remember  that  men  are 
dying  around  you  by  thousands.  Will  you  let  your  eye  follow 
them  into  the  world  of  shades  ?  Myriads  of  them  die  without 
God,  without  Christ,  without  hope.  My  brother,  does  not 
their  fearful  fate  awaken  your  sympathy  ?  You  believe,  from 
scriptural  warrant,  that  those  who  die  without  faith  go  to  that 
place,  where  "  their  worm  dieth  not  and  their  fire  is  not 
quenched."  Believing  this,  is  not  your  soul  stirred  within 
you  in  pity  for  their  fate  ?  Look  around  you  to-day.  You 
see  a  vast  host  gathered  together,  professedly  for  the  service 
of  God.  You  know  also  how  many  there  are  here  who  fear 
him  not,  but  are  strangers  to  themselves  and  strangers  to  the 
cross.  What !  Do  you  know  yourself  what  a  solemn  thing 
it  is  to  be  under  the  curse,  and  will  you  not  pray  and  labor 
for  those  around  you  that  are  under  the  curse  to-day  ?  lie- 
member  your  Master's  cross.  He  died  for  sinners ;  will  you 
not  weep  for  them  ? 

" Did  Christ  o'er  sinners  weep; 
And  shall  your  cheek  be  dry  ?" 

Did  he  give  his  whole  life  for  them,  and  will  not  you  stir  up 
your  life  to  wrestle  with  God,  that  his  purposes  may  be  ac- 
complished on  their  behalf?  You  have  unconverted  children 
— do  you  not  want  them  saved  ?  You  have  brothers,  hus- 
bands, wives,  fathers,  that  are  this  day  in  the  gnll  of  bitter- 


352  THE   GREAT   REVIVAL. 

ness,  and  in  the  bonds  of  iniquity  ;  do  you  not  want  a  revival, 
even  if  it  were  only  for  their  sakes  ?  Behold,  how  much  of 
robbery,  of  murder,  of  crime,  stains  this  poor  land.  Do  you 
not  want  a  revival  of  religion,  if  it  were  merely  for  quenching 
the  flames  of  crime  ?  See  how  God's  name  every  day  is  blas- 
phemed. Mark  how,  this  day,  trades  are  carried  on,  as  if  it 
were  man's  day,  and  not  God's.  Mark  how  multitudes  are 
going  the  downward  course,  merry  on  their  way  to  destruc- 
tion. Do  you  not  feel  for  them  ?  Are  your  hearts  hard  and 
stolid  ?  Has  your  soul  become  steeled  ?  Has  it  become  frozen 
like  an  iceberg  ?  O  Sun  of  righteousness  arise,  and  melt  the 
icy  heart,  and  make  us  all  feel  how  fearful  it  is  for  immortal 
souls  to  perish ;  for  men  to  be  hurried  into  eternity  without 
God,  and  without  hope.  Oh,  will  you  not  now,  from  this  time 
forth,  begin  to  pray  that  God  may  send  forth  his  Word  and 
save  them,  that  his  own  name  may  be  glorified  ? 

As  for  you  that  fear  not  God,  see  how  much  ado  we  are 
making  about  you.  Your  souls  are  worth  more  than  you 
think  for.  O  that  ye  would  believe  in  Christ,  to  the  salvation 
of  your  souls ! 


SERMON  XXII. 
THE  FORM  AND  SPIRIT  OF  REUGION. 

*'  Let  us  fetch  the  ark  of  the  covenant  of  the  Lord  out  of  Shiloh  unto  us, 
that,  when  it  cometh  among  us,-it  may  save  us  out  of  the  hand  of  our  ene- 
mies."— 1  Samuel,  iv.  3. 

These  men  made  a  great  mistake :  what  they  wanted  was 
the  Lord  in  their  midst;  whereas  they  imagined  that  the 
symbol  of  God's  presence,  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  would  he 
amply  sufficient  to  bestow  upon  them  the  assistance  which 
they  required  in  the  day  of  battle.  As  is  man,  such  must  his 
religion  be.  Now,  man  is  a  compound  being.  To  speak  cor- 
rectly, man  is  a  spiritual  being :  he  hath  within  him  a  soul,  a 
substance  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  matter.  But  man  is  also 
made  up  of  a  body  as  well  as  a  soul.  He  is  not  pure  spirit ; 
his  spirit  is  incarnate  in  flesh  and  blood.  Now,  such  is  our 
religion.  The  religion  of  God  is,  as  to  its  vitality,  purely  spir- 
itual— always  so ;  but  since  man  is  made  of  flesh  as  well  as  of 
spirit,  it  seemed  necessary  that  his  religion  should  have  some- 
thing of  the  outward,  external,  and  material,  in  which  to  em- 
body the  spiritual,  or  else  man  would  not  have  been  able  to 
lay  hold  upon  it.  This  was  especially  the  case  under  the  old 
dispensation.  The  religion  of  the  Jew  is  really  a  heavenly 
and  spiritual  thing  ;  a  thing  of  thought,  a  thing  that  concerns 
the  mind  and  spirit ;  but  the  Jew  was  untaught ;  he  was  but 
a  babe,  unable  to  understand  spiritual  things  unless  he  saw 
them  pictured  out  to  him,  or  (to  repeat  what  I  have  just  said) 
unless  he  saw  them  embodied  in  some  outward  type  and  sym- 
bol :  and  therefore  God  was  pleased  to  give  the  Jew  a  great 
number  of  ceremonies,  which  were  to  his  religion  what  the 
body  is  to  man's  soul.  The  Jewish  religion  taught  the  doc- 
trine of  the  atonement,  but  the  Jew  could  not  understand  it, 


I 


35*4  THE    FOEM   AND    SPIRIT    OF   RELIGION. 

and  therefore  God  gave  him  a  lamb  to  be  slain  every  morning 
and  every  evening,  and  he  gave  him  a  goat  over  which  the 
sins  of  the  people  were  to  be  confessed,  and  which  was  to  be 
driven  into  the  depths  of  the  wilderness,  to  show  the  great 
doctrine  of  a  substitute  and  atonement  through  him.  The 
Jewish  religion  teaches,  as  one  of  its  prominent  doctrines,  the 
unity  of  the  Godhead ;  but  the  Jew  was  ever  apt  to  forget 
that  there  was  but  one  God ;  and  God,  to  teach  him  that, 
would  have  but  one  temj)le,  and  but  one  altar  upon  w^hich  the 
sacrifice  might  rightly  be  oifered.  So  that  the  idea  of  the  one 
God  was  (as  I  have  already  said)  made  incarnate  in  the  fact 
that  there  was  but  one  temple,  but  one  altar,  and  but  one 
great  high  priest.  And  mark,  this  is  true  of  our  religion — 
Christianity :  not  true  to  so  full  an  extent  as  of  Judaism — for 
the  religion  of  the  Jew  had  a  gross  and  heavy  body — but  our 
religion  has  a  body  transparent,  and  having  but  little  of  ma- 
terialism in  it.  If  you  ask  me  what  I  would  call  the  material- 
ism of  our  religion,  the  embodiment  of  the  sj^iritual  part  of 
that  in  which  we  trust  and  hope,  I  would  point,  first  of  all,  to 
the  two  ordinances  of  the  Lord,  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per. I  would  point  you  next  to  the  services  of  God's  house, 
to  the  Sabbath  day,  to  the  outward  ritual  of  our  worship ;  I 
would  point  you  to  our  solemn  song,  to  our  sacred  service  of 
prayer ;  and  I  would  point  you  also — and  I  think  I  am  right 
in  so  doing — to  the  form  of  sound  words,  which  we  ever  de- 
sire to  hold  fast  and  firm,  as  containing  that  creed  which  it  is 
necessary  for  men  to  believe  if  they  would  hold  the  truth  as  it 
is  in  Jesus.  Our  religion,  then,  has  an  outward  form  even  to 
this  day;  for  the  apostle  Paul,  when  he  spoke  of  professing 
Christians,  spoke  of  some  who  had  "a  form  of  godliness,  but 
denied  the  powder  thereof."  So  that  it  is  still  true,  though  I 
confess  not  to  the  same  extent  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Moses, 
that  religion  must  have  a  body,  that  the  spiritual  thing  may 
come  out  palpably  before  our  vision,  and  that  we  may  see  it. 
Now,  three  points  this  moi-ning  are  inferred  from  our  narra- 
tive. The  first  point  is  this — ^that  the  outward  form  of  religion 
is  to  he  carefully  and  reverently  observed.  But  my  second  and 
most  important  head  is  this — you  will  notice  that  the  very  men 


THE    FORM   AND   SPIRIT    OF   RELIGION. 


\S9^ 


who  have  the  least  of  the  spirit  of  religion  are  the  most  su2Jer- 
stitiously  observa?it  of  the  form  of  it:  just  as  you  find  the 
people  here,  who  did  not  care  for  God,  had  a  very  super- 
stitious regard  for  that  chest  called  the  ark  of  the  covenant. 
And  then,  my  third  point  will  be,  that  those  who  trust  in  the 
outward  form  of  religion^  apart  from  the  spirit  of  it.,  are 
fearfully  deceived.,  and  tJie  result  of  their  deception  must  he 
of  the  most  fatal  character.  The  first  point  I  feel  is  necessary, 
lest  I  should  lead  any  to  despise  the  form  of  religion,  while 
endeavoring  to  insist  upon  the  absolute  necessity  of  attending 
in  the  first  place  to  the  spirit  of  it. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  then,  tue  forai  of  religion  is  to  be 
REVERENTLY  OBSERVED.  This  ark  of  the  covenant  was,  with 
the  Jew,  the  most  sacred  instrument  of  his  religion.  There 
were  many  other  things  which  he  held  holy :  but  this  ark 
always  stood  in  the  most  holy  place,  and  it  was  rendered 
doubly  sacred,  because,  between  the  outstretched  wings  of 
those  cherubic  figures  that  rested  upon  the  mercy-seat,  there 
was  usually  to  be  seen  a  bright  light,  called  the  Shekinah, 
which  manifested  that  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Israel,  who  dwelt 
between  the  cherubim,  was  there.  And,  indeed,  they  had 
great  reason  in  the  days  of  Samuel  to  reverence  this  ark,  for 
you  will  recollect  that  when  Moses  went  to  war  with  the 
Midianites,  a  great  slaughter  of  that  people  was  occasioned  by 
the  fact  that  Eleazar,  the  high  priest,  with  a  silver  trumpet, 
stood  in  the  fore-front  of  the  battle,  bearing  in  his  hands  the 
lioly  instrument  of  the  law — that  is,  the  ark ;  and  it  was  by 
the  presence  of  this  ark  that  the  victory  was  achieved.  It  was 
by  this  ark,  too,  that  the  river  Jordan  was  dried  up.  When 
the  tribes  came  to  it,  there  was  no  ford,  but  the  priests  put 
the  staves  of  the  ark  upon  their  shoulders,  and  they  marched 
with  solemn  pace  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  before  the 
presence  of  the  ark  the  waters  receded,  so  that  the  people 
went  through  dry-shod.  And  when  they  had  landed  in  the 
promised  country,  you  remember  it  was  by  this  ark  that  the 
witlls  of  Jericho  fell  flat  to  the  ground  ;  for  the  priests,  blowing 
the  trumpets  and  carrying  the  ark,  went  before,  when  they 
compassed  the  city  seven  days,  and  at  last,  by  the  power  of 


^( 


THE    POEM   AND   SPIRIT    OF    RELIGI0:N'. 


the  ark,  or  rather  by  the  power  of  that  God  who  dwelt  within 
the  ark,  the  w^alls  of  Jericho  fell  flat  down,  and  every  man  went 
straight  up  to  the  slaughter.  These  people,  therefore,  thought 
if  they  could  once  get  the  ark,  it  would  be  all  right,  and  they 
"would  be  sure  to  triumph ;  and,  while  I  shall  have,  in  the 
second  head,  to  insist  upon  it  that  they  were  wrong  in  super- 
stitiously  imputing  strength  to  the  poor  chest,  yet  the  ark  was 
to  be  reverently  observed,  for  it  was  the  outward  symbol  of  a 
high  spiritual  truth,  and  it  w^as  never  to  be  treated  with  any 
indignity. 

It  is  quite  certain,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  form  of  religion 
must  never  he  altered.  You  remember  that  this  ark  was  made 
by  Moses,  according  to  the  pattern  that  God  had  given  him  in 
the  mount.  ISTow,  the  outward  forms  of  our  religion,  if  they 
be  correct,  are  made  by  God.  His  two  great  ordinances  of 
Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper  are  sent  for  us  from  on  high.  I 
dare  not  alter  either  of  them.  I  should  think  it  a  high  sin  and 
treason  against  Heaven,  if,  believing  that  baptism  signifieth 
immersion,  and  immersion  only,  I  should  pretend  to  adminis- 
ter it  by  sprinkling ;  or  believing  that  baptism  appertaineth  to 
believers  only,  I  should  consider  myself  a  criminal  in  the  sight 
of  God  if  I  should  give  it  to  any  but  those  who  believe.  Even 
so  with  the  Lord's  Supper.  Believing  that  it  consists  of  bread 
and  wine,  I  hold  it  to  be  highly  blasphemous  in  the  church 
of  Rome  to  withhold  the  cup  from  the  people ;  and  knowing 
that  this  ordinance  was  intended  for  the  Lord's  people  only,  I 
consider  it  an  act  of  high  treason  against  the  majesty  of 
Heaven,  when  any  are  admitted  to  the  Lord's  Sapper  who 
have  not  made  a  profession  of  their  faith  and  of  their  repent- 
ance, and  who  do  not  declare  themselves  to  be  the  true  chil- 
dren of  God.  And  with  regard  to  the  doctrines  of  the  gos- 
pel, no  alterations  must  be  allowed  here.  I  know  that  forms 
of  doctrine  are  very  little,  compared  with  the  spirit  and  the 
heart ;  but  still  we  must  not  alter  even  the  form  of  it.  It  has 
often  been  said,  that  we  ought  not  to  have  a  strict  religion. 
I  believe  that  is  just  the  very  thing  we  ought  to  have :  a  re- 
ligion that  is  of  such  a  cast  that  it  does  not  know  how  to  alter ; 
a  religion  that  comes  from  the  infallible  Head  of  the  Church, 


THE    FORM   AND   SPIRIT   OF   RELIGION.  357 

that  is,  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  and  which  to  the  latest  time  is 
to  be  like  the  Law  and  the  Prophets — not  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
it  must  fail  while  the  earth  endureth.  The  men  who  think 
that  we  may  alter  this  and  alter  that,  and  still  maintain  the 
spirit  of  religion,  have  some  truth  on  their  side ;  but  let  them 
remember,  that  while  the  spirit  of  religion  may  be  main- 
tained in  the  midst  of  many  errors,  yet  every  error  tends  to 
weaken  our  spirituality.  And,  besides  that,  we  have  no  right 
to  consider  the  effect  upon  ourselves  merely.  Whatever  form 
of  religion  God  has  ordained,  it  is  ours  to  practice  without  the 
slightest  alteration  ;  and  to  alter  any  one  of  the  ordinances  of 
God  is  an  act  of  dire  profanation  ;  however  reasonable  that 
alteration  may  seem  to  be,  it  is  treason  against  high  Heaven, 
and  is  not  to  be  permitted  in  the  church  of  Christ.  "  Hold 
fast  the  form  of  sound  words,"  said  Paul,  "  which  thou  hast 
heard  of  me  ;"  or,  as  I  remember  to  have  said  before,  while 
the  form  of  religion  is  not  power,  yet  unless  the  form  be  care- 
fully observed,  it  is  not  easy  to  maintain  the  power.  It  is  like 
an  egg-shell  enclosing  the  egg ;  there  is  no  life  in  the  shell,  but 
you  must  take  care  you  do  not  crack  it,  or  else  you  may  de- 
stroy the  life  within.  The  ordinances  and  doctrines  of  our 
faith  are  only  the  shell  of  religion — they  are  not  the  life ;  but 
we  must  take  care  that  we  do  not  hurt  so  much  as  the  out- 
ward shell,  for  if  we  do,  we  may  endanger  the  Hfe  within ; 
though  that  may  manage  to  live,  it  must  be  weakened  by  any 
injury  done  to  the  outward  form  thereof. 

And  as  the  form  must  not  be  altered,  so  it  must  not  be  de- 
spised. These  Philistines  despised  the  ark.  They  took  it  and 
set  it  in  their  idol  temple,  and  the  result  was  that  their  idol  god, 
Dagon,  was  broken  in  pieces.  They  then  sent  it  through  their 
cities,  and  they  were  smitten  with  emerods.  And  then,  being 
afraid  to  put  it  within  walls,  they  set  it  in  the  open  country, 
and  they  were  invaded  with  mice,  so  that  every  thing  was 
eaten  up.  God  would  not  have  any  dishonor  put  even  upon 
the  outward  form  of  his  religion  ;  he  would  have  men  rever- 
ently take  care  that  they  did  no  dishonor  even  to  his  ark  :  it 
might  be  nothing  but  gopher-wood,  but  because,  between  the 
wings  of  those  cherubim  God  had  dwelt,  the  ark  was  to  be 


358  THE  FORM   AND   SPIRIT   OF   RELIGION. 

held  sacred,  and  God  would  not  have  it  dishonored.  Take 
care,  ye  that  despise  God,  lest  ye  despise  his  outward  ordi- 
nances. To  laugh  at  the  Sabbath,  to  despise  the  ordinances 
of  God's  house,  to  neglect  the  means  of  grace,  to  call  the  out- 
ward form  of  religion  a  vain  thing — all  this  is  highly  offensive 
in  the  sight  of  God.  He  will  have  us  remember  that  while 
the  form  is  not  the  life,  yet  the  form  is  to  be  respe'cted  for  the 
sake  of  the  life  which  it  contains ;  the  body  is  to  be  venerated 
for  the  sake  of  the  inward  soul ;  and,  as  I  would  have  no  man 
maim  my  body,  even  though  in  maiming  it  he  might  not  be 
able  to  wound  my  soul,  so  God  would  have  no  man  maim  the 
outward  parts  of  religion,  although  it  is  true  no  man  can 
touch  the  real  vitality  of  it. 

Yet  one  more  remark,  and  that  a  very  solemn  one.  As  the 
outward  form  is  neither  to  be  altered  or  despised,  so  neither 
is  it  to  be  intruded  upon  by  unworthy  persons.  You  remem- 
ber that  this  ark  of  the  covenant,  after  it  was  brought  back 
from  the  land  of  the  Philistines,  was  set  in  the  field  of  Joshua 
the  Bethshemite,  and  the  Bethshemites  took  off  the  lid,  and 
looked  into  the  ark  of  the  Lord,  and,  for  this,  the  Lord  "smote 
of  that  people  fifty  thousand  and  threescore  and  ten  men ;  and 
the  people  lamented  because  the  Lord  had  smitten  many  of 
the  people  with  a  gi*eat  slaughter."  These  Bethshemites  had 
no  intention  whatever  of  dishonoring  the  ark.  They  had  a 
vain  curiosity  to  look  within,  and  the  sight  of  those  marvel- 
ous tables  of  stone  struck  them  with  death ;  for  the  law,  when 
it  is  not  covered  by  the  mercy-seat,  is  death  to  any  man,  and 
it  was  death  to  them.  Now,  you  will  easily  remember  how 
very  solemn  a  penalty  is  attached  to  any  man's  intruding  into 
the  outward  form  of  religion  when  he  is  not  called  to  do  so. 
Let  me  quote  this  awful  passage :  "  He"  (speaking  of  the 
Lord's  Supper)  "  that  eateth  and  drinketh  unworthily,  eateth 
and  drinketh  damnation  to  himself,  not  discerning  the  Lord's 
body."  How  frightful  an  announcement  is  that !  A  curse  is 
pronounced  upon  the  man  who  dares  to  touch  even  the  out- 
ward form  of  religion,  unless  he  hath  the  power  of  it;  and  we 
know  there  is  nothing  which  excites  God's  holy  anger  more 
swiftly  than  a  man's  attending  to  the  ordinances  of  his  house 


THE  form:  and  spirit  of  religion.  359 

and  making  an  outward  profession  of  being  in  Christ,  while  he 
has  no  part  nor  lot  in  the  matter.  Oh,  take  heed.  The  out- 
ward ordinances  of  Christ  are  not  the  vitality  of  rehgion,  but 
nevertheless  they  are  so  solemnly  important,  that  we  must 
neither  alter  nor  despise  them,  nor  rush  into  them  without 
being  invited ;  for  if  we  do  so  the  curse  of  God  must  light 
upon  us  for  having  despised  the  holy  things  of  the  Most  High 
God  of  Israel. 

And  now,  before  I  close  this  first  head,  let  me  remark,  that 
the  outward  things  of  God  are  to  be  diligently  cared  for  and 
loved.  "We  have  in  our  reading  had  two  instances  of  that. 
There  was  holy  Eli :  he  knew  very  well  that  the  ark  of  God 
was  not  God ;  he  understood  that  it  was  but  the  outward  sign 
of  the  inward  and  spiritual ;  yet  when  the  ark  of  God  was 
taken,  mark  the  poor  old  man's  trouble :.  his  heart  broke,  and 
then  he  fell  down  and  broke  his  neck.  Then  there  was  that 
nameless  woman.  Her  husband  was  the  priest  who  attended 
to  this  very  ark,  but  he  was  a  man  whose  character  I  can  not 
describe  better  than  by  saying  that  he  was  a  son  of  Belial.  It 
is  hard  for  a  woman  to  beUeve  religion  if  she  has  a  minister  for 
her  husband  who  is  profane  and  wicked.  This  woman's  hus- 
band not  only  committed  wrongs  against  God,  but  against  her. 
He  was  a  filthy  and  unclean  person,  who  polluted  the  very 
courts  of  the  Lord's  house  with  his  fornications ;  and  yet  she 
had  such  faith  in  her  God,  that  she  knew  how  to  love  the  re- 
ligion which  her  husband,  by  his  awful  character,  brought  into 
disrepute.  She  knew  how  to  distinguish  between  the  man 
and  his  duty,  between  the  priest  and  the  priesthood,  between 
the  ofiicer  and  the  office.  I  do  wonder  at  her.  I  am  sure 
there  is  nothing  staggers  our  faith  like  seeing  a  minister  walk- 
ing inconsistently ;  but  this  man  was  the  chief  minister,  and 
her  own  husband,  living  in  known  sin,  and  a  sin  which  came 
home  to  her,  because  ho  sinned  against  her.  I  am  sure  it  was 
wonderful  that  she  believed  at  all ;  but  so  strong  was  her  faith 
and  attachment  to  her  religion,  that  though,  like  Eli,  she  knew 
that  the  ark  was  not  God,  that  the  form  was  not  the  inward 
thing,  yet  the  form  itself  was  so  precious  to  her,  that  the  pangs 
of  child-birth  were  hurried  on  prematurely,  and  in  the  midst 


3G0  THE  FORM   AND   SPIRIT   OF   RELIGIOJ?". 

of  her  pain,  this  still  was  uppermost — that  the  ark  of  the 
Lord  was  taken.  I4i  was  in  vain  to  cheer  her  with  the  news 
that  her  child  was  born ;  it  was  an  idle  tale  to  her,  and  she 
rejoiced  not  in  it.  She  lay  in  a  swoon ;  but  at  last,  opening 
her  eyes,  and  remembering  that  her  husband  was  dead,  and 
that,  therefore,  according  to  Jewish  usage,  it  was  her  duty  to 
give  the  child  a  name,  she  faintly  opened  her  lips  before  she 
died,  and  said,  "  Call  his  name  Inglorious  (Ichabod)  for  the 
glory  is  departed ;"  and  then  she  added  this  reason  for  it :  she 
did  not  say,  "  because  my  husband  is  dead,"  though  she  loved 
him ;  she  did  not  say,  "  because  my  father-in-law,  Eli,  is  dead," 
or  "because  my  nation  has  been  defeated,"  but  she  added 
that  all-significant  reason,  "  because  the  ark  of  the  Lord  was 
taken ;"  and  she  died.  Oh,  I  would  to  God  that  we  all  loved 
God's  house,  and  loved  the  ways  of  God  and  the  ordinances 
of  God  as  much  as  she  did..  While  we  attach  no  super- 
stitious importance  to  the  outward  ceremony,  I  wish  we 
thought  as  much  of  holy  things,  because  of  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel,  as  did  Eli,  and  this  nameless,  but  noble  woman. 

Thus,  I  have  preached  upon  the  first  head,  and  no  ceremo- 
nialist  here,  I  am  sure,  can  differ  from  me,  for  they  must  all 
say  it  is  true.  Even  the  Puseyite  will  confess  that  this  is  just 
what  he  believes — that  ceremonies  ought  to  be  carefully  ob- 
served. But  I  shall  not  agree  with  Mr.  Puseyite  in  the  sec- 
ond head. 

IL  ]N'ow,  it  is  a  notorious  fact,  that  the  very  mex  who 

HAVE  the  least  IDEA  OF  WHAT  SPIRITUAL  RELIGION  IS,  ARE 
THE    MEN    WHO    PAY    THE    MOST    SUPERSTITIOUS    ATTENTION    TO 

OUTWARD  FORMS.  We  refer  you  again  to  this  instance.  These 
people  would  neither  repent,  nor  pray,  nor  seek  God  and  his 
prophets ;  yet  they  sought  out  this  ark  and  trusted  in  it  with 
superstitious  veneration.  Now,  in  any  country  where  there 
has  been  any  religion  at  all  that  is  true,  the  great  fact  has 
come  out  very  plainly,  that  the  people  who  do  n't  know  any 
thing  about  true  religion,  have  always  been  the  most  careful 
about  the  forms.  Do  you  want  to  know  the  man  who  used  to 
swallow  widows'  houses,  and  devour  the  patrimonies  of  the 
fatherless?  Do  you  want  to  know  the  hypocrites,  the  deceivers, 


THE  POEM  AI^D   SPIRIT   OF   RELIGION.  861 

in  the  days  of  Christ  ?     Why,  they  were  the  Pharisees,  who 
**  for  a  show  made  long  prayers ;"  they  were  the  men  who  gave 
alms  to  the  poor  in  the  corner  of  the  street — the  men  that  tithed 
the  anise,  and  the  mint,  and  the  cummin,  and  forgot  the  weight- 
ier matters  of  the  law,  such  as  justice  and  righteousness.     If 
you  wanted  to  find  the  seducer,  the  unjust  judge,  the  har,  the 
perjured  man,  in  the  days  of  Christ,  you  had  only  to  ask  for 
the  man  who  had  fasted  thrice  in  the  week,  and  gave  tithes  of 
all  he  possessed.     These  Pharisees  would  do  any  wicked  ac- 
tion, and  never  stick  at  it ;  yet,  if  in  drinking  wine  a  small  gnat 
should  have  fallen  in  and  been  swallowed  with  it,  they  would 
consider  themselves  defiled,  because  their  law  did  not  allow 
them  to  eat  a  creature  from  which  the  blood  had  not  been 
withdrawn.     Thus  they  strained  at  the  gnat,  thus  getting  the 
reputation  of  being  very  religious,  and  swallowed  the  camel, 
hump  and  all.     You  smile ;  but  what  they  did  in  their  day  is 
done  now.     You  know  the  Romanists ;  did  you  ever  know 
one  of  them  who  would  not  think  it  to  be  a  very  high  offense 
against  the  majesty  of  Heaven,  if  he  were  to  eat  any  meat  on 
Good  Friday  ?     Do  you  know  any  one  of  them  who  did  not 
think  it  necessary  to  kept  Lent  with  strict  punctilious  observ- 
ance ?     Notice  how  carefully  they  go  to  their  places  of  wor- 
ship on  the  Sabbath  morning,  how  diligently  they  observe  that 
sacred  rite  of  crossing  their  foreheads  with  holy  water.     How 
necessary  it  is,  that  the  holy  water  and  every  thing  else  of  the 
same  kind,  should  be  tenderly  cared  for.     And  do  not  the 
same  persons  in  their  own  countries  keep  their  theaters  open 
on  the  Sabbath  day  ?     Do  you  not  find  the  very  men,  who 
are  so  solemnly  observant  of  their  religion  in  the  morning,  for- 
getting it  all  in  the  evening ;  thinking  no  more  of  the  Sabbath, 
which  they  call  holy,  than  if  it  were  any  other  day,  but  making 
it  more  a  day  of  merriment  than  any  day  of  the  week  ?    Look 
again  at  our  Church  of  England  ;  God  be  thanked  that  there 
are  so  many  true  evangelical  men  hi  the  midst  of  it ;  but 
there  arc  certain  sections  there  to  whom  my  remarks  will  ap' 
ply.     Do  you  want  to  know  the  men  who  know  nothing  at  all 
about  the  new  birth,  who  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  justi- 
fied by  faith,  who  have  not  a  spark  of  religion  ?    Do  you  know 

16 


362  THE   FORM   AND    SPIRIT   OF   RELIGION. 

where  to  find  them  ?  They  are  the  men  that  never  said  their 
creed  without  turning  their  heads  the  right  way,  that  never 
said  the  name  of  Jesus  without  bowing  their  heads  most  rev- 
erently ;  they  are  the  men  who  always  take  care  that  the 
church  should  be  builded  so  as  to  be  a  goodly  edifice,  in  order 
that  the  parishioners  going  there  may  see  the  glory  of  God  in 
the  glory  of  his  house  ;  they  are  the  people  who  mark  every 
red  letter  day,  who  take  care  that  every  rubric  is  attended  to, 
who  think  that  holly  on  Christmas  is  a  most  heavenly  thing, 
and  a  few  flowers  upon  the  altar  almost  equal  to  the  Lily  of 
the  Yalley  and  the  Rose  of  Sharon.  These  are  the  gentle- 
men who  could  no  more  preach  without  a  cassock  than  they 
could  live  without  a  head.  Of  course  they  have  not  any 
religion  at  all,  and  because  the  inner  life  is  clean  *  gone, 
evaporated,  dissipated,  they  have  to  be  so  extremely  particular 
that  they  observe  the  outward  form  of  it.  I  know  many  evan- 
gelical churchmen  '(and  they  are  generally  precise  enough) 
that  would  break  through  every  form.  I  could  point  you  out 
this  morning  some  two  or  three  clergymen  of  the  Church  of 
England  who  are  heretical  enough  to  be  sitting  here  and  lis- 
tening to  the  words  of  one  who  is  a  Dissenter,  and  of  course  a 
Schismatic,  but  who  would  no  more  think  of  calling  me  a 
Schismatic  than  they  would  of  flying,  and  would  give  me  the 
right  hand  of  fellowship  mth  all  their  hearts.  I  believe  that 
many  of  them  would  forget  the  rubrics  if  they  could,  and,  if  it 
were  in  their  power,  would  cut  their  catechism  all  to  pieces, 
and  turn  half  of  their  church  prayer-book  out  of  doors.  And 
these  are  the  men  that  have  most  religion ;  they  care  least 
about  the  form,  but  they  have  most  of  the  grace  within  ; 
they  have  more  true  religion,  more  evangelism,  more  of  the 
grace  of  God  in  their  hearts,  than  fifty  of  their  Puseyite 
brethren. 

But  let  me  come  to  Dissenters,  for  we  are  just  as  bad.  I 
must  deal  with  all  alike.  We  have  among  us  a  certain  class 
of  people,  a  sort  of  dissenting  Puseyites.  Where  the  Puseyite 
thinks  it  necessary  to  keep  Good  Friday  and  Easter  Sunday, 
these  good  brethren  take  as  much  care  to  keep  holy  day  the 
wrong  way,  as  the  otheis  the  right  way.    They  think  it  would 


THE  FORM   AND  SPIRIT   OF   RELIGION'.  363 

be  a  grievous  sin  to  go  to  church  on  Good  Friday,  and  they 
are  solemnly  in  earnest  that  they  should  never  break  the  law 
of  the  church  not  to  observe  holy  days.  To  them  it  is  a  very 
sacred  thing  that  they  should  always  be  found  in  their  church 
twice  on  the  Sunday  ;  they  think  it  highly  necessary  that  they 
should  have  their  children  baptized,  or  that  they  should  be 
baptized  themselves,  and  that  they  should  take  the  Lord's 
Supper.  That  is  all  well  and  good  ;  but  alas  !  we  must  con- 
fess it,  there  are  some  among  us  who,  if  they  are  orthodox  in 
their  opinions  and  precise  in  their  outward  practice,  are  quite 
content  to  be  utterly  destitute  of  the  power  of  religion.  I 
must  deal  faithfully  with  all.  I  know  in  all  our  dissenting  de- 
nominations there  are  to  be  found  many  self  righteous  persons, 
who  have  not  any  religion  at  all,  but  who  are  the  most  precise 
people  in  all  the  world  to  stick  up  for  the  outward  form  of  it. 
Do  you  not  know  some  old  member  of  the  church  here  and 
there  ?  Well,  you  say,  if  anybody  in  the  church  is  a  hypocrite, 
I  should  say  that  old  So-and-so  is  one.  If  you  were  to  pro- 
pose any  alteration  in  any  thing,  oh  !  how  these  gentlemen 
would  bristle  up ;  how  they  would  draw  their  swords.  They  I 
they  love  every  nail  in  the  chapel  door,  they  would  not  have 
a  different  color  for  the  pulpit  for  the  world.  They  will  have 
every  thing  strictly  observed.  Their  whole  salvation  seems  to 
depend  upon  the  rightness  of  the  form.  Oh  no,  not  they ; 
they  could  not  think  of  altering  any  of  the  forms  of  their 
church.  You  know  it  is  quite  as  easy  for  a  man  to  trust  in 
ceremonials  when  they  are  severely  simple,  as  for  a  man  to 
rely  upon  them  when  they  are  gorgeous  and  superb.  A  man 
may  as  much  trust  in  the  simple  ordinances  of  immersion  and 
the  breaking  of  bread,  as  another  may  trust  in  the  high  mass 
and  in  the  prayers  of  priests.  We  may  have  Rome  in  Dissent, 
and  Rome  in  the  Church  of  England,  and  Rome  anywhere ; 
for  wherever  there  is  a  trust  in  ceremonies,  there  is  the  essence 
of  Popery,  there  is  anti-Christ  and  the  man  of  sin.  Oh  !  take 
heed  of  this  any  of  you  who  have  been  relying  upon  your  cere- 
moDies.  This  is  just  the  truth,  that  the  more  zeal  for  ceremo- 
nies, generally  the  less  power  of  vital  godliness  within.  But 
DOW,  how  is  it  that  the  man  who  would  not  eat  any  thing  but 


S64  THE  FORM   AND   SPIRIT   OF   RELIGIOK. 

Bait  fish  on  Good  Friday,  cheats  his  neighbor  on  Saturday  ? 
How  is  it  that  the  man  who  never  would  by  any  means  go  to 
any  thing  but  an  orthodox  sixteen-ounces-to-the  pound  Bap- 
tist chapel,  can  be  found  committing  acts  of  injustice  in  his 
daily  business,  and  perhaps  more  filthy  deeds  still?  I  will 
tell  you — the  man  feels  he  must  have  some  righteousness  or 
other,  and  when  he  knows  himself  to  be  a  good-for-nothing 
rascal,  he  feels  he  has  not  got  a  moral  righteousness,  and  there- 
fore he  tries  to  get  a  ceremonial  one.  Mark  the  man  that 
drinks  and  swears,  that  commits  all  kinds  of  iniquity,  and  you 
will  very  often  find  him  (I  have  known  such  cases)  the  most 
superstitiously  reverent  man  that  can  be  found.  He  would 
not  go  inside  a  place  of  worship  without  taking  his  hat  off  im- 
mediately. He  will  curse  and  swear  outside,  perhaps,  and  it 
never  pricks  his  conscience ;  but  to  walk  up  the  aisle  of  a 
church  with  his  hat  on — oh!  how  frightful.  He  feels,  if  he 
did  so,  he  would  be  lost  for  ever.  He  would  not  forget  to 
tithe  the  mint,  anise,  and  cummin,  but  all  the  while  the 
weightier  matters  of  the  law  are  left  totally  unregarded. 
Another  reason  is,  because  a  religion  of  ceremonies  is  so  much 
easier  than  true  religion.  To  say  Ave  Marias  and  Pater  JSTos- 
ters  is  easy  enough ;  you  may  soon  get  it  over,  and  it  does 
not  check  the  conscience  much.  To  go  to  church  twice  on 
the  Sunday — there  is  nothing  very  hard  in  that.  It  is  not 
half  so  hard  as  turning  to  the  Lord  with  full  purpose  of  heart. 
It  is  not  half  so  hard  as  breaking  off  one's  sin  by  righteousness, 
and  putting  one's  trust  in  Christ  Jesus  alone.  Therefore,  be- 
cause the  thing  is  so  easy,  people  like  it  better.  Again,  it  is  so 
complimentary.  When  the  Romanist  beats  his  back,  and 
flogs  his  flesh,  why  is  it  that  he  likes  that  better  than  the  sim- 
ple gospel,  "  Believe  and  five  ?"  Why,  because  it  just  flatters 
his  pride.  He  thinks  he  is  beating  the  devil  out  of  himself 
but  he  is  in  reality  beating  him  in — the  devil  of  pride  is  com- 
ing in.  He  whispers,  "  Ah  !  you  are  a  good  man  to  have 
flogged  yourself  like  that !  you  will  carry  yourself  to  heaven 
by  the  merit  of  your  wounds  and  bruises."  Poor  human  na- 
ture always  like  that.  In  fact,  the  more  exacting  a  rehgion  is, 
the  better  people  like  it.     The  more  religion  ties  you  up,  and 


THE  PORAI  AJH)  SPIEIT   OF   EELiaiON.  366 

binds  yon,  if  it  does  not  touch  the  heart,  the  better  people 
like  to  carry  it  out.  Hindooism  has  its  great  hold  upon  the 
people,  because  they  can  get  a  great  stock  of  merit  by  walk- 
ing with  spikes  in  theii'  shoes,  or  rolling  themselves  many 
thousands  of  miles,  or  drinking  the  filthy  waters  of  the  Ganges, 
or  offering  themselves  to  die.  All  these  things  please  human 
nature.  *'  Believe  and  live"  is  too  humbling ;  to  trust  alone 
in  Christ  casts  down  man's  high  looks ;  therefore  man  says, 
"  Away  \^dth  it !"  and  he  turns  to  any  thing  rather  than  to 
Clirist. 

Besides,  there  is  another  reason.  Men  always  like  the  re- 
ligion of  ceremonies,  because  it  does  not  need  the  giving  up 
of  their  favorite  sins.  "  Why,"  says  a  man,  "  if  all  that  is 
needed  for  me  to  be  saved,  is  to  have  the  Sacrament  given  me 
by  the  priest  when  I  come  to  die,  what  a  delightful  religion 
that  is !  I  can  drink,  swear,  and  do  just  as  I  like.  I  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  get  greased  at  last  with  holy  oil,  and  off 
I  go  to  heaven  with  all  my  sins  about  me."  Says  another, 
"  We  can  have  all  our  gayeties  and  frivolities,  all  the  pomp  of 
life  and  the  pride  of  flesh ;  all  that  we  need  is  to  get  con- 
firmed ;  then,  afterwards,  sometimes  to  go  to  church,  take  a 
handsomely  bound  prayer-book  and  Bible,  be  very  attentive 
and  observant,  and  the  bishop  will  no  doubt  set  us  all  right." 
This  just  suits  many  men,  because  there  is  no  trouble  about  it. 
They  can  keep  on  with  their  gayeties  and  with  their  sins,  and 
yet  they  believe  they  can  go  to  heaven  with  them.  Men  do 
Dot  like  that  old-fashioned  gospel  which  tells  them  that  sin  and 
the  sinner  must  part,  or  else  they  must  be  damned.  They  do 
not  like  to  be  told  that  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord,  and  that  old-fashioned  text,  "  Except  a  man  be  born 
again,  he  can  not  see  the  kingdom  of  God,"  will  never  bo 
palatable  to  human  nature.  Human  nature  does  not  mind 
what  you  tell  it  to  do,  so  long  as  you  do  not  tell  it  to  be- 
lieve. You  may  tell  it  to  observe  this,  that,  and  the  other, 
and  the  man  will  do  it,  and  thank  you,  and  the  harder 
it  is,  the  better  he  will  like  you ;  but  once  tell  him,  "  Jesus 
Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners.  Believe  on  him 
and  thou  shalt  be  saved,"  his  pride  is  all  up  at  once ;  he  can 


366  THE  FOEM   AND   SPIRIT   OP   RELIGION. 

not  endure  it,  and  he  hates  the  man  that  preaches  it  to  him, 
and  drives  the  very  thought  of  the  gospel  from  his  soul. 
III.  And  now,  in  the  last  place,  it  is  mine  to  warn  you  that 

TO  TRUST  IN  CEREMONIES  IS  A  MOST  DECEITFUL  THING,  AND 
WILL  END  IN  THE  MOST  TERRIFIC  CONSEQUENCES.      When  thcse 

people  had  got  the  ark  into  the  camp,  they  shouted  for  joy, 
because  they  thought  themselves  quite  safe ;  but,  alas,  they 
met  with  a  greater  defeat  than  before.  Only  four  thousand 
men  had  been  killed  in  the  first  battle,  but  in  the  second, 
thirty  thousand  footmen  of  Israel  fell  down  dead.  How  vain 
are  the  hopes  that  men  build  upon  their  good  works,  and  cer- 
emonial observances !  How  frightful  is  that  delusion  which 
teaches  for  the  gospel  a  thing  which  is  not  "  the  gospel,"  nor 
"  another  gospel,"  but  it  is  a  thing  that  would  pervert  the 
gospel  of  Christ.  My  hearer,  let  me  ask  thee  solemnly,  what 
is  thy  ground  of  hope  ?  Dost  thou  rely  on  baptism  ?  O  man, 
how  fooHsh  art  thou !  What  can  a  few  drops  of  water,  put 
upon  an  infant's  forehead,  do  ?  Some  lying  hypocrites  tell  us, 
that  children  are  regenerated  by  drops  of  water.  What  kind 
of  regeneration  is  that  ?  We  have  seen  people  hanged  that 
were  regenerated  in  this  fashion.  There  have  been  men  that 
have  lived  all  their  lives  whoremongers,  adulterers,  thieves, 
and  murderers,  who  have  been  regenerated  in  their  baptism 
by  that  kind  of  regeneration.  Oh,  be  not  deceived  by  a  re- 
generation so  absurd,  so  palpable  even  to  flesh  and  blood,  as 
one  of  the  lying  wonders  that  have  come  from  hell  itself.  But 
mayhap  thou  sayest,  "  Sir,  I  rely  upon  my  baptism  in  after 
life."  Ah,  my  friend,  what  can  washing  in  water  do  ?  As  the 
Lord  liveth,  if  thou  trustest  in  baptism  thou  trustest  in  a  thing 
that  will  fail  thee  at  last.  For  what  is  washing  in  water,  un- 
less it  is  preceded  by  faith  and  repentance  ?  We  baptize  you, 
not  in  order  to  wash  away  your  sins,  but  because  we  believe 
they  are  washed  away  beforehand,  and  if  we  did  not  think  you 
believed  so,  we  would  not  admit  you  to  a  participation  in  that 
ordinance.  But  if  you  will  pervert  this  to  your  own  destruc- 
tion, by  trusting  in  it,  take  heed  ;  you  are  w  arned  this  morn- 
ing. For  as  "  circumcision  availeth  nothing,  nor  uncircum- 
cision,  but  a  new  creature,"  so  baptism  availeth  nothing. 


THE   FORM   AND    SPIEIT    OF   RELIGION.  367 

I  may  have  some  here  who  are  saying  within  themselves, 
"Well,  if  I  do  not  go  to  heaven,  nobody  will,  for  I  have  been 
brought  up  to  my  church  as  regularly  as  possible  ;  I  was  reg- 
ularly confirmed  ;  my  godfathers  and  godmothers  stood  for 
me  in  my  childhood,  and  all  after  the  right  fashion.  I  have 
come  here,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  about  the  first  offense  I  ever  com- 
mitted, coming  into  this  schismatic  conventicle ;  if  it  please  God 
to  forgive  me,  I  will  never  do  so  again.  I  always  go  to  church, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  by  taking  the  Sacrament  and  saying 
my  prayers  I  shall  go  to  heaven."  Ah  !  you  are  awfully  de- 
ceived, for  unless  you  are  born  again  you  must  come  back  to 
the  old  standard  after  all— unless  you  are  in  blessed  union  with 
the  Lamb,  unless  you  have  found  repentance  for  sin,  unless 
you  have  true  living  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  you  may  keep  all 
these  things,  you  may  observe  every  jot  and  tittle,  but  the 
gates  of  heaven  must  be  shut  in  your  face,  and  "  depart  from 
me,  I  never  knew  you,"  must  be  your  doom,  even  though  you 
reply,  "  Thou  hast  eaten  and  drunken  in  our  streets,  and  we 
have  listened  to  thy  voice."  No,  my  friends,  be  ye  Presby- 
terians, Episcopalians,  or  Baptists,  it  matters  not,  ye  have  your 
ceremonies  ;  and  there  are  some  among  us  that  rely  upon  them. 
This  one  truth  cuts  at  the  root  of  us  all.  If  this  be  our  hope, 
it  is  a  foul  delusion.  We  must  have  faith  in  Jesus,  we  must 
have  the  new  heart  and  the  right  spirit ;  no  outward  forms  can 
make  us  clean.  The  leprosy  lies  deep  within ;  and  unless  there 
be  an  inward  work,  no  outward  work  can  ever  satisfy  God, 
and  give  us  an  entrance  into  Paradise. 

But  before  I  close,  there  is  one  thing  I  want  you  to  notice, 
and  tliat  is,  that  this  ark  not  only  could  not  give  victory  to 
Isrcid,  but  it  could  not  preserve  the  lives  of  the  priests  them- 
selves who  carried  it.  This  is  a  fatal  blow  to  all  who  trust  in 
the  forms  of  religion.  What  would  the  Romanist  think,  if  I 
should  tell  him  that  his  outward  forms  can  never  save  him  ; 
and  how  would  he  grind  his  teeth  if  I  were  to  tell  him,  as  I 
do,  that  the  outward  forma  can  never  save  his  priest,  for  his 
priest  and  he  must  be  lost  together  unless  they  have  some  bet- 
ter trust  than  this  !  But  we  have  even  in  Protestant  chin-ches 
too  much  piiestcraft.     People  say,  "  Well,  if  the  gospel  does 


368  THE  FORM   AND    SPIRIT    OP   RELIGION. 

not  save  me,  I  am  confident  of  the  salvation  of  my  minister." 
Rest  assured  that  he  that  serveth  at  God's  altar  is  no  more  se- 
cure from  destruction,  unless  he  hath  a  living  faith  in  Christ, 
than  you  yourselves.  Hophni  and  Phinehas  are  slain,  and  so 
must  every  priest  be  if  he  relies  on  ceremonies  himself  or 
teaches  others  to  do  so.  I  can  not  imagine  a  more  frightful 
death-bed  than  that  of  a  man  who  has  been  a  priest — I  mean 
a  man  who  has  taught  others  to  trust  in  ceremonies.  When 
he  is  buried,  it  will  be  said  of  him  that  he  died  in  sure  and 
certain  hope  of  a  blessed  resurrection  ;  but  oh !  the  moment 
after  death,  when  he  opens  his  eyes  to  see  his  delusion  !  While 
he  was  on  earth  he  was  fool  enough  to  think  that  drops  of 
water  could  save  him,  that  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  wine 
could  renew  his  heart,  and  save  his  soul,  but  when  he  gets  into 
another  world  he  will  lose  this  folly,  and  then  will  the  thought 
flash  upon  him,  like  a  lightning  flash,  writhing  his  soul  with 
misery — ^Ah  !  I  am  destitute  of  the  one  thing  needful ;  I  had 
no  love  to  Christ,  I  never  had  that  repentance  which  needed 
not  to  be  repented  of;  I  never  fled  to  Jesus,  and  now  I  know 
that  that  hymn  is  true — 

"  Not  all  the  outward  forms  of  earth, 
Nor  rites  that  God  has  given, 
Nor  will  of  man,  nor  blood,  nor  birth, 
Can  raise  the  soul  to  heaven." 

Oh  !  how  frightful  then  afterwards  to  meet  his  parishioners,  to 
see  those  to  whom  he  has  preached,  and  to  be  howled  at 
through  the  pit  by  the  men  whom  he  was  the  instrument  of 
destroying,  by  telling  them  to  trust  in  a  rotten  foundation. 
Let  me  free  myself  from  any  such  fear  as  that.  As  the  Lord 
my  God  liveth  before  whom  I  stand  this  day — man,  woman, 
my  brother,  my  sister,  in  the  race  of  Adam,  if  thou  reliest  on 
any  thing  short  of  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  thou  trustest  in 
a  lie  ;  and  if  thy  salvation  ends  in  any  thing  short  of  a  thorough 
change  of  heart,  if  it  makes  thee  any  thing  less  than  a  new 
creature  in  Christ  Jesus,  the  bed  is  shorter  than  a  man  can 
stretch  himself  upon  it,  thou  hast  a  religion  which  is  not  equal 
to  the  necessities  of  thy  case,  and  when  thou  needest  it  most, 


THE  FORM   AND   SPIRIT   OP   RELIGION.  369 

it  will  reel  beneath  thy  feet,  and  leave  thee  without  a  standing 
place  whereon  to  rest,  overwhelmed  with  dismay,  and  over- 
come by  despair. 

Now,  before  I  send  you  away,  let  me  make  this  last  remark. 
I  hear  one  say,  "  Sir,  I  renounce  all  trust  in  good  works  and 
ceremonies.  Tell  me,  how  can  I  be  saved  ?"  The  way  Is  sim- 
ply this.  Our  sins  deserve  punishment ;  God  must  and  will 
punish  sin  ;  JeSus  Christ  came  into  this  world  and  was  pun- 
ished in  the  room,  place,  and  stead  of  all  that  believe  on  him. 
Your  business,  then,  this  morning  is  to  make  this  inquiry,  Do  I 
want  a  Saviour  ?  Do  I  feel  that  I  want  him  ?  And  my  busi- 
ness, if  you  answer  that  question  aright  is  to  say,  Believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved. 

Ah !  there  is  one  in  heaven  to-day,  I  firmly  believe,  who 
was  always  a  worshiper  in  this  place — a  young  man  who  was 
led  here  to  listen  to  the  gospel,  and  was  converted  to  God  ; 
and  last  Sabbath  morning  was  caught  away  to  heaven  in  the 
burning  house  at  Bloomsbury — one  of  those  young  men  who 
was  taken  out  of  the  ruins,  one  who  had  been  brought  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  truth  here.  It  is  stated  in  some  of  the  pa- 
pers, that  his  mother  was  far  from  a  religious  woman,  and  was 
somewhat  given  to  drink ;  he  had  to  struggle  with  some 
temptation  and  opposition,  but  he  was  enabled  to  hold  on  his 
way,  and  then,  in  such  an  hour  as  he  thought  not,  the  Son  of 
man  came  for  him,  and  caught  him  to  himself  in  tlie  midst  of 
flames  and  crashing  timbers  and  the  uprising  of  smoke.  Oh  I 
I  may  have  one  here,  that,  ere  another  Sabbath  morning 
comes,  may  be  launched  into  eternity,  if  not  by  the  same  de- 
plorable process,  yet  in  as  hasty  a  manner ;  and  as  my  soul  re- 
joices over  tliat  young  man,  to  think  that  God  should  have 
honored  me  in  bringing  him  to  Christ  before  he  took  him  up 
to  heaven,  I  must  lament  that  there  are  any  of  you  in  a  peril 
so  frightful,  as  to  be  living  without  God,  without  Christ,  with 
out  a  hope  of  heaven ;  to  have  death  hanging  over  you,  and 
yet  not  to  tremble  at  it.  Oh  !  this  morning  I  beseech  you, 
close  with  Christ.  "  Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye 
perish  from  the  way,  while  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little : 
for  blessed  are  all  they  that  put  their  trust  in  him," 

10* 


SERMON  XXIII. 

PROVIDENCE. 

"  But  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered." — ^Matthew,  x.  30. 

During  this  week  my  mind  has  been  much  directed  to  the 
subject  of  Providence,  and  you  will  not  wonder,  when  I  relate 
a  portion  of  one  day's  story.  I  was  engaged  to  preach  last 
Wednesday  at  Halifax,  where  there  was  a  heavy  snow  storm. 
Preparations  had  been  made  for  a  congregation  of  eight  thou- 
sand persons,  and  a  huge  wooden  structure  had  been  erected.  I 
considered  that  owing  to  the  severe  weather,  few  persons  could 
possibly  assemble,  and  I  looked  forward  to  the  dreary  task  of 
addressing  an  insignificant  handful  of  people  in  a  vast  place. 
However,  when  I  arrived,  I  found  from  five  to  six  thousand  peo- 
ple gathered  together  to  hear  the  Word  ;  and  a  more  substantial 
looking  place  it  has  not  been  my  lot  to  see.  It  certainly  was 
a  huge,  uncomely  building,  but,  nevertheless,  it  seemed  well 
adapted  to  answer  the  purpose.  We  met  together  in  the  after- 
noon and  worshiped  God,  and  again  in  the  evening,  and  we 
separated  to  our  homes,  or  rather,  we  were  about  to  separate, 
and  all  this  while  the  kind  providence  of  God  was  watching 
over  us.  Immediately  in  front  of  me  there  was  a  huge  gallery, 
which  looked  an  exceedingly  massive  structure,  capable  of 
holding  two  thousand  persons.  This,  in  the  afternoon,  was 
crowded,  and  it  seemed  to  stand  as  firm  as  a  rock.  Again  in 
the  evening  there  it  stood,  and  neither  moved  nor  shook. 
But  mark  the  provident  hand  of  God:  in  the  evening,  when 
the  people  were  about  to  retire,  and  when  there  was  scarcely 
more  than  a  hundred  persons  there,  a  huge  beam  gave  way, 
and  down  came  a  portion  of  the  flooring  of  the  gallery  with 
a  fearful  crash.  Several  persons  were  precipitated  with  the 
planks,  but  still  the  good  hand  of  God  watched  over  us,  and 


PEOVIDENCE.  371 

only  two  persons  were  severely  injured  with  broken  legs, 
which  it  is  trusted  will  be  reset  without  the  necessity  of  am- 
putation. Now,  had  this  happened  any  earlier,  not  only  must 
many  more  have  been  injured,  but  there  are  a  thousand 
chances  to  one,  as  we  say,  that  a  panic  must  necessarily  have 
ensued  similar  to  that  which  we  still  remember,  and  deplore 
as  having  occurred  in  this  place.  Had  such  a  thing  occurred, 
and  had  I  been  the  unhappy  preacher  on  the  occasion,  I  feel 
certain  that  I  should  never  have  been  able  to  occupy  the  pul- 
pit again.  Such  was  the  effect  of  the  first  calamity,  that  I 
marvel  that  I  ever  survived.  No  human  tongue  can  possibly 
tell  what  I  experienced.  The  Lord,  however,  graciously  pre- 
served us;  the  fewness  of  the  people  in  the  gallery  prevented 
any  such  catastrophe,  and  thus  a  most  fearful  accident  was 
averted.  But  we  have  a  more  marvelous  providence  still  to 
record.  Overloaded  by  the  immense  weight  of  snow  which 
fell  upon  it,  and  beaten  by  a  heavy  wind,  the  entire  building 
fell  with  an  enormous  crash  three  hours  after  we  had  left  it, 
splitting  the  huge  timbers  into  shivers,  and  rendering  very 
much  of  the  material  utterly  useless  for  any  future  building. 
Now  mark  this — had  the  snow  begun  three  hours  earlier,  the 
building  must  have  fallen  upon  us,  and  how  few  of  us  would 
have  escaped  we  can  not  guess.  But  mark  another  thing: 
all  day  long  it  thawed  so  fast,  that  the  snow  as  it  fell  seemed 
to  leave  a  mass,  not  of  white  snow,  but  of  snow  and  water 
together.  This  ran  through  the  roof  upon  us,  to  our  con- 
siderable  annoyance,  and  I  was  almost  ready  to  complain  that 
we  had  hard  dealing  from  God's  providence.  But  if  it  had 
been  a  frost  instead  of  a  thaw,  you  can  easily  perceive  that 
the  place  must  liave  fallen  several  hours  beforehand,  and  then 
your  minister,  and  the  greater  part  of  his  congregation,  would 
probably  have  been  in  the  other  world.  Some  there  may  be 
who  deny  providence  altogether.  I  can  not  conceive  that 
there  were  any  partakers  of  the  scene  who  could  have  done 
so.  This  I  know,  if  I  had  been  an  unbeliever  to  that  day  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  supervision  and  w.ise  care  of  God,  I  must 
have  been  a  believer  in  it  at  this  hour.     Oh,  magnify  the 


372  PEOVIDENCE. 

Loi-d  with  me,  and  let  us  exalt  his  name  together ;  he  hath 
been  very  gracious  unto  us,  and  remembered  us  for  good. 

Now,  wlien  we  look  abroad,  we  see,  as  we  think,  such 
abundant  proofs  that  there  is  a  God,  that  we  are  apt  to  treat 
a  man  who  denies  the  existence  of  a  God  with  very  little  re- 
spect or  patience.  We  believe  him  to  be  willfully  blind,  for 
we  see  God's  name  so  legible  upon  the  very  surface  of  crea- 
tion, that  we  can  not  have  patience  with  him  if  he  dares  to 
deny  the  existence  of  a  Creator.  And  in  the  matter  of  sal- 
vation :  we  have  each  of  us  seen  in  our  own  salvation  such  posi- 
tive marks  of  the  Lord*s  dealings  with  us,  that  we  are  apt  to 
be  somewhat  censorious  and  harsh  towards  any  who  propound 
a  doctrine  which  would  teach  salvation  apart  from  God.  And 
I  think  we  shall  be  very  apt  this  morning  to  think  hardly  of 
the  man,  who,  having  seen  and  heard  of  such  a  providence  as 
that  which  I  have  just  related,  could  fail  to  see  God's  hand. 
J[t  seems  to  me  that  the  hand  of  God  in  providence  is  as  clear 
as  in  creation  ;  and  whilst  I  am  sure  that  if  saved  at  all  I  must 
be  saved  by  God,  I  feel  equally  certain  that  every  matter 
which  concerns  all  of  us  in  daily  life,  bears  upon  itself  the 
evident  trace  of  being  the  handiwork  of  Jehovah,  our  God. 
We  must,  if  we  would  be  true  believers  in  God,  and  would 
avoid  all  atheism,  give  unto  him  the  kingship  in  the  three 
kingdoms  of  creation,  grace,  and  providence.  It  is  in  the 
last,  however,  that  I  think  we  are  the  most  apt  to  forget  him  ; 
we  may  easily  see  God  in  creation  if  we  be  at  all  enlightened, 
aud  if  saved,  we  can  not  avoid  confessing  that  salvation  is  of 
the  Lord  alone.  The  very  way  in  which  we  are  saved,  and 
the  effect  of  grace  in  our  hearts,  always  compel  us  to  feel 
that  God  is  just.  But  providence  is  such  a  checkered  thing, 
and  you  and  I  are  so  prone  to  misjudge  God  and  to  come 
to  rash  conclusions  concerning  his  dealings  with  us,  that  per- 
haps this  is  the  greatest  stronghold  of  our  natural  atheism — 
a  doubt  of  God's  dealings  with  us  in  the  arrangements  of  out- 
ward affairs.  This  morning  I  shall  not  be  able  to  go  deeply 
into  the  subject,  but  very  heartily  can  I  enter  into  it,  after 
being  so  great  a  partaker  of  his  wonder-working  power. 

From  the  text  I  shall  draw  one  or  two  points.     First  of  all, 


PROVIDENCE.  373 

the  text  says,  "  the  very  hairs  of  our  head  are  all  numbered.'* 
From  this  I  shall  infer  the  minuteness  of  x:>romdence.  Again, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  said  of  believers  that  the  haii's  of  their  head 
are  all  numbered,  I  shall  infer  the  kind  consideration^  the 
generous  care,  which  God  exercises  over  Christians.  And 
then,  from  the  text,  and  from  our  Saviour's  reason  for  utter- 
ing  these  words,  I  shall  draw  a  practical  conclusion  of  ichat 
should  he  the  spirit  and  temper  of  the  men  who  believe  this 
truth — that  the  very  hairs  of  their  head  are  all  numbered. 

I.  First,  then,  our  text  very  clearly  teaches  us  the  minute- 
ness OF  PROVIDENCE.  Every  man  can  see  providence  in 
great  things;  it  is  very  seldom  that  you  find  any  person  deny- 
ing that  when  an  avalanche  falls'from  the  summit  of  the  Alps, 
the  hand,  the  terrible  hand  of  God  is  there.  There  are  very  few 
men  who  do  not  feel  that  God  is  present  in  the  whirlwind,  and 
in  the  storm.  Most  men  will  acknowledge  that  the  earthquake, 
the  hurricane,  the  devastation  of  war,  and  the  ravages  of 
pestilence,  come  from  the  hand  of  God.  We  find  most  men 
very  willing  to  confess  that  God  is  God  of  the  hills,  but  they 
forget  that  he  is  also  Lord  of  the  valleys.  They  will  grant 
that  he  deals  with  great  masses,  but  not  with  individuals ; 
with  seas  in  the  bulk,  but  not  with  drops.  Most  men  forget, 
however,  that  the  fact  which  they  believe  of  providence  being 
in  great  things  involves  a  providence  in  the  little,  for  it  were 
an  inconsistent  belief  that  the  mass  were  in  God's  hand, 
whilst  the  atom  was  left  to  chance  ;  it  is  indeed  a  belief  that 
contradicts  itself;  we  must  believe  all  chance  or  else  all  God. 
We  must  have  all  ordained  and  arranged,  or  else  we  must 
have  every  thing  left  to  the  wild  whirlwind  of  chance  and  ac- 
cident. But  I  believe  that  it  is  in  little  things  that  we  fail  to 
-oe  God  ;  therefore,  it  is  to  the  little  things  that  I  call  your 
attention  this  morning. 

I  believe  my  text  means  Uterally  what  it  says.  "  The  very 
hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered."  God's  wisdom  and 
knowledge  are  so  great,  that  he  even  knows  the  number  of 
the  hairs  njK)n  our  head.  His  providence  descends  to  the 
minute  particles  of  dust  in  the  summer  gale  ;  he  numbeis  the 
gnats  in  the  sunshine,  and  the  fishes  in  the  sea.    While  it 


374  PEOVIDEN^CE. 

certainly  dotli  control  the  massive  orbs  that  shine  in  heaven, 
it  doth  not  blush  to  deal  with  the  drop  that  trickleth  from 
the  eye. 

Now,  I  shall  want  you  to  notice,  how  little  circumstances 
of  daily  Hfe,  when  we  come  to  put  them  all  together,  evidently 
betray  their  origin.  I  will  take  a  Scripture  history,  and  show 
how  the  little  events  must  have  been  of  God,  as  well  as  the 
great  results.  When  Joseph  was  sent  into  Egypt  by  his 
brethren,  in  order  to  provide  for  them  against  a  day  of  famine, 
we  all  agree  with  Joseph's  declaration,  "  It  was  God  that  sent 
me  hither."  But  now,  if  we  notice  each  of  the  little  ways 
through  which  this  great  result  was  brought  to  pass,  we  shall 
see  God  in  each  of  tliem.  One  day,  Joseph's  brethren  are 
gone  out  with  the  sheep  ;  Jacob  wants  to  send  to  them.  Why 
does  he  send  Josej^h  ?  He  was  his  darling  son ;  he  loved  him 
better  than  all  his  brethren.  Why  does  he  send  him  away  ? 
He  sends  him,  however.  Then  why  should  it  have  happened 
at  that  particular  time,  that  Jacob  should  want  to  send  at  all  ? 
However,  he  did  want  to  send,  and  he  did  send  Joseph.  A 
mere  accident  you  will  say,  but  quite  necessary  as  the  base- 
ment of  the  structure.  Joseph  goes  ;  his  brethren  are  in  want 
of  pasture,  and  therefore  leave  Shechem,  where  Joseph  ex- 
pected to  find  them,  and  journey  on  to  Dothan.  Why  go  to 
Dothan  ?  Was  not  the  whole  land  before  them  ?  However, 
Joseph  goes  there  ;  he  arrives  at  Dothan  just  when  they  are 
thinking  of  him  and  his  dreams,  and  they  put  him  into  a  pit. 
As  they  are  about  to  eat  bread,  some  Ishmaelites  came  by. 
Why  did  they  come  there  at  all  ?  Why  did  they  come,  at 
that  particular  time  ?  Why  were  they  going  to  Egypt  ? 
Why  might  they  not  have  been  going  any  other  way?  Why 
was  it  that  the  Ishmaelites  wanted  to  buy  slaves  ?  Why  might 
they  not  have  been  trading  in  some  other  commodity  ?  How- 
ever, Joseph  is  sold  ;  but  he  is  not  disposed  of  on  the  road  to 
Egypt,  he  is  taken  to  the  land.  Why  is  it  that  Potiphar  is  to 
buy  him  ?  Why  is  it  that  Potiphar  has  a  wife  at  all  ?  Why 
is  it  again  that  Potiphar's  wife  should  be  so  full  of  lust  ?  Why 
should  Joseph  get  into  prison  ?  How  is  it  that  the  baker  and 
the  butler  should  offend  their  master  ?     All  chance,  as  the 


PROVIDENCE.  875 

world  has  it,  but  every  link  necessary  to  make  the  chain. 
They  do  both  offend  their  master;  they  are  both  put  into 
prison.  How  is  it  that  they  both  dream?  How  is  it  that 
Joseph  interprets  the  dreams  ?  How  is  it  that  the  butler  for- 
gets him?  Why,  just  because  if  he  had  recollected  him,  it 
would  have  spoiled  it  all.  Why  is  it  Pharaoh  dreams  ?  How 
can  dreams  be  under  the  arrangement  of  God's  providence  ? 
However,  Pharaoh  does  dream;  the  butler  then  thinks  of 
Joseph;  Joseph  is  brought  out  of  prison  and  taken  before 
Pharaoh.  But  take  away  any  of  those  simple  circumstances, 
break  any  one  of  the  links  of  the  chain,  and  the  whole  of  the 
design  is  scattered  to  the  winds.  You  can  not  get  the  machine 
to  work ;  if  any  of  tlie  minute  cogs  of  the  wheels  are  taken 
away,  every  thing  is  disarranged.  I  think  it  seems  very  clear 
to  any  man  who  will  dissect  not  only  that,  but  any  other 
history  he  likes  to  fix  upon,  that  there  must  be  a  God  in  the 
little  accidents  and  dealings  of  daily  life,  as  well  as  in  the  great 
results  that  tell  upon  the  page  of  history,  and  are  recounted 
in  our  songs.     God  is  to  be  seen  in  little  things. 

We  will  now  notice,  in  the  minutiae  of  providence,  how 
punctual  providence  always  is.  You  will  never  wonder  more 
at  providence,  than  when  you  consider  how  well  God  keeps 
time  with  himself.  To  return  to  our  history — how  is  it  that 
the  Ishraaelites  should  come  by  just  at  that  time  ?  How 
many  thousand  chances  there  were  that  their  journey  might 
have  been  taken  just  before !  There  certainly  was  no  special 
train  to  call  at  that  station  at  that  particular  time,  so  that 
Joseph's  brethren  might  ari'ange  to  go  and  call  him.  No 
such  thing.  And  yet  if  there  had  been  all  this  arrangement, 
it  could  not  have  happened  better.  You  know  Reuben  in- 
tended to  fetch  Joseph  out  of  the  pit  half  an  hour  later,  and 
*'  the  child  was  not."  God  had  these  Ishmaelites  ready :  you 
do  not  know  how  he  may  have  sped  them  on  their  journey,  or 
delayed  them,  so  as  to  biing  them  on  the  spot  punctually  at 
the  identical  moment. 

To  give  another  instance,  there  was  a  poor  woman  whose 
son  had  been  raised  from  the  dead  by  Elisha;  she,  however, 
had  left  her  country  at  the  time  of  fiimine,  and  had  lost  her 


876  PROVIDENCE. 

estate.  She  wanted  to  get  it  back  ;  God  determined  that  she 
should  have  it.  How  was  it  to  be  done  ?  The  king  sends  for 
Gehazi,  the  servant  of  Elisha,  and  he  talks  to  him  :  he  tells 
him  one  instance  about  a  woman  who  had  had  a  child  raised 
from  the  dead.  How  strange !  in  comes  the  woman  herself. 
My  lord,  this  is  the  woman  ;  she  comes  to  obtain  her  suit. 
Her  desire  is  granted,  just  because  at  the  very  moment  the 
king's  mind  is  interested  concerning  h^i.  All  chance,  was  it 
not  ?  Nothing  but  chance  ?  So  fools  say  ;  but  those  who 
read  Bibles,  and  those  who  have  judgment,  say  there  is  some- 
thing more  than  chance  in  such  a  coalition  of  circumstances. 
It  could  not  be  a  mere  coincidence,  as  men  sometimes  say; 
there  must  be  God  here,  for  it  is  harder  to  think  that  there  is 
not  God  than  that  there  is.  And  whilst  a  belief  in  God  may  be 
said  by  some  to  involve  a  great  stretch  of  faith,  the  putting 
him  out  of  such  things  as  this,  would  involve  an  infinitely 
greater  amount  of  credulity.     No,  there  was  God  there. 

There  is  another  instance  that  I  remember  in  the  New 
Testament  history.  Paul  goes  into  the  temple,  and  the  Jews 
rush  upon  him  in  a  moment  to  kill  him.  They  drag  him  out 
of  the  temple,  and  the  doors  are  shut  against  him.  They  are 
iust  in  the  very  act  of  killing  him,  and  what  is  to  become  of 
poor  Paul's  life  ?  Five  minutes  longer  and  Paul  will  be  dead, 
when  up  comes  the  chief  captain  and  delivers  him.  How  was 
it  that  the  chief  captain,  knew  of  it  ?  Very  probably  some 
young  man  of  the  crowed  who  knew  Paul  and  loved  him,  ran 
to  tell  him.  But  why  was  it  that  the  chief  captain  was  at 
home?  How  was  it  that  the  ruler  was  able  to  come  on. a 
moment's  emergency  ?  How  was  it  that  he  did  come  at  all  ? 
It  was  only  just  a  Hebrew,  a  man  that  was  good  for  nothing, 
being  killed.  How  was  it  that  he  came,  and  when  he  came 
the  streets  were  full ;  there  was  a  mob  about  Jerusalem  t 
How  did  he  come  to  the  right  street  ?  How  did  he  come  al 
the  exact  nick  of  time  ?  Say,  "It  is  all  chance !"  I  laugh  at 
you ;  it  is  providence.  If  there  be  any  thing  in  the  world 
that  is  plain  to  any  man  that  thinks,  it  is  plain  that  God 

"  Overrules  all  mortal  things, 
And  manages  our  mean  affairs." 


PEOVIDENCE.  *  Sll 

But  mark,  that  the  running  of  the  youth,  and  his  arrival  at 
the  precise  time,  and  the  coming  of  the  chief  governor  at  the 
precise  time,  just  proved  the  punctuality  of  divine  providence ; 
and  if  God  has  a  design  that  a  thing  shall  happen  at  twelve,  if 
you  have  appointed  it  for  eleven,  it  shall  not  happen  till  twelve ; 
and  if  he  means  it  to  be  delayed  till  one,  it  is  in  vain  that  you 
propose  any  earlier  or  any  later.  God's  punctuality  in  provi- 
dence is  always  sure,  and  very  often  apparent. 

Nor  is  it  only  in  the  minutes  of  time  that  we  get  an  idea  of 
the  minuteness  of  providence,  but  it  is  in  the  use  of  little  things. 
A  sparrow  has  turned  the  fate  of  an  empire.  You  remember 
the  old  story  of  Mohammed  flying  from  his  pursuers.  He 
enters  a  cave,  and  a  sparrow  chirps  at  the  entrance,  and  flies 
away  as  the  pursuers  pass.  "  Oh,"  say  they,  "  there  is  no  fear 
that  Mohammed  is  there,  otherwise  the  bird  would  have  gone 
a  long  while  ago  ;"  and  the  impostor's  life  is  saved  by  a  spar- 
row. We  think,  perhaps,  that  God  directs  the  motions  of  the 
leviathan,  and  guides  him  in  the  sea,  when  he  makes  the  deep 
to  be  hoary.  Will  we  please  to  recollect,  that  the  guidance 
of  a  minnow  in  its  tiny  pool,  is  as  much  in  the  hand  of  provi- 
.  dence  as  the  motion  of  the  great  serpent  in  the  depths.  You 
see  the  birds  congregate  in  the  autumn,  ready  for  their  flight 
across  the  purple  sea.  They  fly  hither  and  thither  in  strange 
confusion.  The  believer  in  providence  holds  that  the  wing  of 
every  bird  has  stamped  upon  it  the  place  where  it  shall  fly, 
and  fly  with  never  such  vagaries  of  its  own  wild  will,  it  can  not 
diverge  so  much  as  the  millionth  part  of  an  inch  from  its  pre- 
destinated track.  It  may  whirl  about,  above,  beneath — east, 
west,  north,  south-^-wherever  it  pleases ;  still,  it  is  all  accord- 
ing to  the  providential  hand  of  God.  And  although  we  see  it 
not,  it  may  be  that  if  that  swallow  did  not  take  the  precise  track 
which  it  does  take,  something  a  little  greater  might  be  afiected 
thereby ;  and  again,  something  a  little  greater  still  might  be 
aflfected,  until  at  last  a  great  thing  would  be  involved  in  a 
little.  Blessed  is  that  man  who  seeth  God  in  trifles !  It  is 
there  that  it  is  the  hardest  to  see  him  ;  but  he  who  believes 
that  God  is  there,  may  go  from  the  little  providence  up  to  the 
God  of  providence.    Rest  assured,  when  the  fish  in  the  sea 


878  PROVIDENCE. 

take  their  migration,  they  have  a  captain  and  a  leader,  as  well 
as  the  stars ;  for  he  who  marshals  the  stars  in  their  courses, 
and  guides  the  planets  in  their  march,  is  the  master  of  the  fly, 
and  wings  the  bat,  and  guides  the  minnow,  and  doth  not 
despise  the  tiniest  of  his  creatures.  You  say  there  is  pre- 
destination in  the  path  of  the  earth  ;  you  believe  that  in  the 
shining  of  the  sun  there  is  the  ordinance  of  God ;  there  is  as 
much  his  ordinance  in  the  creeping  of  an  insect  or  in  the 
glimmering  of  a  glow-worm  in  the  darkness.  In  nothing 
is  there  chance,  but  in  every  thing  there  is  a  God.  All 
things  live  and  move  in  him,  and  have  their  being;  nor 
could  they  live  or  move  otherwise  ;  for  God  hath  so  ordained 
them. 

I  hear  one  say,  "  Well,  sir,  you  seem  to  be  a  fatalist !"  !N^o, 
far  from  it.  There  is  just  this  diflerence  between  fate  and 
providence.  Fate  is  blind  ;  providence  has  eyes.  Fate  is 
blind,  a  thing  that  must  be ;  it  is  just  an  arrow  shot  from  a 
bow,  that  must  fly  onward,  but  hath  no  target.  Not  so, 
providence ;  providence  is  full  of  eyes.  There  is  a  design  in 
every  thing,  and  an  end  to  be  answered  ;  all  things  are  work- 
ing together,  and  working  together  for  good.  They  are  not 
done  because  they  must  be  done,  but  they  are  done  because 
there  is  some  reason  for  it.  It  is  not  only  that  the  thing  is, 
})ecause  it  must  be ;  but  the  thing  is,  because  it  is  right  it 
should  be.  God  hath  not  arbitrarily  marked  out  the  world's 
history;  he  had  an  eye  to  the  great  architecture  of  perfection, 
when  he  marked  all  the  aisles  of  history,  and  placed  all  the 
pillars  of  events  in  the  building  of  time. 

There  is  another  thing  that  we  have  to  recollect  also,  which 
will  strike  us  perhaps  more  than  the  smallness  of  things.  The 
minuteness  of  providence  may  be  seen  in  the  fact,  that  even 
the  thoughts  of  men  are  under  God's  hand.  Now,  thoughts 
are  things  which  generally  escape  our  attention,  when  we 
speak  of  providence.  But  how  much  may  depend  upon  a 
thought !  Oftentimes  a  monarch  has  had  a  thought  which  has 
cost  a  nation  many  a  bloody  battle.  Sometimes  a  good  man 
has  had  a  thought,  which  has  been  the  means  of  rescuing  mul- 
titudes from  hell,  and  bearing  thousands  safely  to  heaven.   Be- 


PEOVTDENCE.  379 

yond  a  doubt,  every  imagination,  every  passing  thought,  every 
conception,  that  is  only  bom  to  die,  is  under  the  hand  of  God. 
And  in  turning  over  the  page  of  history,  you  will  often  be  struck, 
when  you  see  how  great  a  thing  has  been  brought  about  by 
an  idle  word.  Depend  uj^on  it,  then,  that  the  will  of  man,  the 
thought  of  man,  the  desire  of  man,  that  every  purpose  of  man, 
is  immediately  under  the  hand  of  God.  Take  an  instance — 
Jesus  Christ  is  to  be  born  at  Bethlehem ;  his  mother  is  living 
at  Nazareth :  he  will  be  born  there  to  a  dead  certainty.  No, 
not  so.  Caesar  takes  a  whim  into  his  head.  All  the  world 
shall  be  taxed,  and  he  will  have  all  of  them  go  to  their  own 
city.  What  necessity  for  that  ?  Stupid  idea  of  Caesar's !  If 
he  had  had  a  parliament,  they  would  have  voted  against  him. 
They  would  have  said,  "  Why  make  all  the  people  go  to  their 
own  peculiar  city  to  the  census  ?  Take  the  census  where  they 
live  ;  that  will  be  abundantly  sufficient."  "  No,"  says  he,  "  it 
is  my  will,  and  Caesar  can  not  be  opposed."  Some  think  Caesar 
mad.  God  knows  what  he  means  to  do  with  Ca3sar.  Mary, 
great  with  child,  must  take  a  laborious  journey  to  Bethlehem ; 
and  there  is  her  child  born  in  a  manger.  We  should  not  have  had 
the  prophecy  fulfilled,  that  Christ  should  be  born  at  Bethlehem, 
and  our  very  faith  in  the  Messiah  might  have  been  shaken,  if 
it  had  not  been  for  that  whim  of  Caesar's.  So  that  even  the 
will  of  man  ;  the  tyranny,  the  despotism  of  the  tyrant,  is  in 
the  hand  of  God,  and  he  turneth  it  whithersoever  he  pleaseth, 
to  work  his  own  will. 

Gathering  up  all  our  heads  into  one  short  statement,  it  is 
our  finn  belief  that  he  who  wings  an  angel  guides  a  sparrow. 
We  believe  that  he  who  supports  the  dignity  of  his  throne 
amidst  the  splendors  of  heaven,  maintains  it  also  in  the  depths 
of  the  dark  sea.  We  believe  that  there  is  nothing  above,  be- 
neath, around,  which  is  not  according  to  the  determination  of 
his  own  counsel  and  will ;  and  while  we  are  not  fatalists,  we  do 
most  truly  and  sternly  hold  the  doctrine,  that  God  hath  de- 
creed all  things  whatsoever  that  come  to  pass,  and  that  he 
overruleth  all  things  for  his  own  glory  and  good ;  so  that  with 
Martin  Luther,  we  can  say, 


880  PEOVIDENCE. 

"  He  everywhere  hath  sway, 

And  all  things  serve  his  might ; 
His  every  act  pure  blessing  is, 
His  path  unsnllied  light" 

n.  The  second  point  is,  the  kind  consideration"  of  god, 
IN  TAKING  CAKE  OF  HIS  PEOPLE.  In  reading  the  text,  I  thought, 
"  There  is  better  care  taken  of  me  than  I  can  take  care  of 
myself."  You  all  take  care  of  yourselves  to  some  extent,  but 
which  of  you  ever  took  so  much  care*  of  himself  as  to  count 
the  hairs  of  his  head  ?  But  God  will  not  only  protect  our 
limbs,  but  even  the  excrescence  of  hair  is  to  be  seen  after. 
And  how  much  this  excels  all  the  care  of  our  tenderest  friends ! 
Look  at  the  mother,  how  careful  she  is.  If  her  child  have  a 
little  cough,  she  notices  it :  the  slightest  weakness  is  sure  to  be 
observed.  She  has  watched  all  its  motions  anxiously,  to  see 
whether  it  walked  right,  whether  all  its  limbs  were  sound,  and 
whether  it  had  the  use  of  all  its  powers  in  perfection ;  but  she 
has  never  thought  of  numbering  the  hairs  of  her  child's  head, 
and  the  absence  of  one  or  two  of  them  would  give  her  no 
great  concern.  But  our  God  is  more  careful  of  us,  even  than 
a  mother  with  her  child — so  careful  that  he  numbers  the  hairs 
of  our  head.  How  safe  are  we,  then,  beneath  the  hand  of 
God! 

However,  leaving  the  figure,  let  us  again  notice  the  kind, 
guardian  care,  which  God  exerts  over  his  people  in  the  way 
of  providence.  I  have  often  been  struck  with  the  providence 
of  God,  in  keeping  his  people  alive  before  they  were  con- 
verted. How  many  are  there  here  who  would  have  been  in 
hell  at  this  hour,  if  some  special  providence  had  not  kept  them 
alive  till  the  time  of  their  conversion  !  I  remember  mention- 
ing this  in  company,  and  almost  every  person  in  the  room  had 
some  half-miracle  to  tell,  concerning  his  own  deliverance  be- 
fore conversion.  One  gentleman,  I  remember,  was  a  sporting 
man,  who  afterwards  became  an  eminent  Christian.  He  told 
me,  that  a  little  time  before  his  conversion  he  was  shooting, 
and  his  gun  burst  in  four  pieces,  which  stood  upright  in  the 
earth  as  near  as  possible  in  the  exact  form  of  a  square,  having 
been  driven  nearly  a  foot  into  the  ground,  while  he  stood  there 


PROVIDENCE.  381 

unharmed  and  quite  safe,  having  scarcely  felt  the  shock.  I 
was  noticing  in  Hervey's  works,  one  day,  a  very  pretty  thought 
on  this  subject.  He  says,  "  Two  persons  who  had  been  hunt- 
ing together  in  the  day,  slept  together  the  following  night. 
One  of  them  was  renewing  the  pursuit  in  his  dream,  and, 
having  run  the  whole  circle  of  the  chase,  came  at  last  to  the 
fall  of  the  stag;  upon  this  he  cries  oufwith  a  determined  ar- 
dor, IHl  kill  him^  IHl  JciU  him ;  and  immediately  feels  for 
the  knife  which  he  carried  in  his  pocket.  His  companion  hap-, 
pening  to  awake,  and  observing  what  passed,  leaped  from  the 
bed.  Being  secure  from  danger,  and  the  moon  shining  in  the 
room,  he  stood  to  view  the  event,  when,  to  his  inexpressible 
surprise,  the  infatuated  sportsman  gave  several  deadly  stabs  in 
the  very  place  where  a  moment  before  the  throat  and  the  life 
of  his  friend  lay.  This  I  mention  as  a  proof,  that  nothing 
hinders  us,  even  from  being  assassins  of  others,  or  murderers 
of  ourselves,  amidst  the  mad  sallies  of  sleep,  only  the  prevent- 
ing care  of  our  heavenly  Father." 

How  wonderful  the  providence  of  God  with  regard  to 
Chiistian  people,  in  keeping  them  out  of  temptation.  I  have 
often  noticed  this  fact,  and  I  believe  you  are  able  to  confirm  it, 
that  there  are  times  when  if  a  temptation  should  come  you 
would  be  overtaken  by  it ;  but  the  temptation  does  not  come. 
And  at  other  times,  when  the  temptation  comes,  you  have 
supernatural  strength  to  resist  it.  Yes  !  the  best  Christian  in 
the  world  will  tell  you,  that  such  is  still  the  strength  of  his 
lust,  that  there  are  moments  when  if  the  object  were  presented 
to  him,  he  would  certainly  fall  into  the  commission  of  a  foul 
sin ;  but  then  the  object  is  not  there,  or  there  is  no  opportunity 
of  committing  the  sin.  At  another  time,  when  we  are  called  to 
go  through  a  burning  fiery  furnace  of  temptation,  wc  have  no 
desire  towards  the  peculiar  sin,  in  fact  we  feel  an  aversion  to 
it,  or  are  even  incapable  of  it.  Strange  it  is,  but  many  a  man's 
character  has  been  saved  by  providence.  The  best  man  that 
ever  lived,  little  knows  how  much  he  owes  for  preservation  to 
the  providence  as  well  as  to  the  grace  of  God. 

How  raai-velously  too  has  providence  arranged  all  our  places. 
I  can  not  but  recur  to  my  own  personal  history,  for,  after  all,. 


382  PROVIDENCE. 

we  are  obliged  to  speak  more  of  what  we  know  of  ourselvea 
as  matters  of  fact,  than  of  others.  I  shall  always  regard  the 
fact  of  my  bemg  here  to-day  as  a  remarkable  instance  of  provi- 
dence. I  should  not  have  occupied  this  hall  probably,  and 
been  blessed  of  God  in  preaching  to  multitudes  if  it  had  not 
been  for  what  I  considered  an  untoward  accident.  I  should 
have  been  at  this  time  studying  in  college,  instead  of  preach- 
ing here,  but  for  a  singular  circumstance  which  happened.  I 
had  agreed  to  go  to  college :  the  tutor  had  come  to  see  me, 
and  I  went  to  see  him  at  the  house  of  a  mutual  friend ;  I  was 
shown  by  the  servant  into  one  drawing-room  in  the  house,  he 
was  shown  into  another.  He  sat  and  waited  for  me  for  two 
hours ;  I  sat  and  waited  for  him  two  hours.  He  could  wait 
no  longer,  and  went  away  thinking  I  had  not  treated  him  well ; 
I  went  away  and  thought  that  he  had  not  treated  me  well.  As 
I  went  away  this  text  came  into  my  mind,  "Seekest  thou 
great  things  for  thyself?  Seek  them  not."  So  I  WTOte  to 
say  that  I  must  positively  decline,  I  was  happy  enough  an^ongst 
my  own  country  people,  and  got  on  very  well  in  preaching, 
and  I  did  not  care  to  go  to  college.  I  have  now  had  four 
years  of  labor.  But,  speaking  after  the  manner  of  men,  those 
who  have  been  saved  during  that  time  would  not  have  been 
saved,  by  my  instrumentality  at  any  rate,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  remarkable  providence  turning  the  whole  tenor  of  my 
thoughts,  and  putting  things  into  a  new  track.  You  have  often 
had  strange  accidents  like  that.  When  you  have  resolved  to  do 
a  thing,  you  could  not  do  it  any  how ;  it  was  quite  impossible. 
God  turned  you  another  way,  and  proved  that  providence  is 
indeed  the  master  of  all  human  events. 

And  how  good,  too,  has  God  been  in  providence  to  some  of 
you,  in  providing  your  daily  bread.  It  is  remarkable  how  a 
little  poverty  makes  a  person  believe  in  providence,  especially 
if  he  is  helped  through  it.  If  a  person  has  to  live  from  hand 
to  mouth,  when  day  by  day  the  manna  falls,  he  begins  to  think 
there  is  a  providence  then.  The  gentleman  who  sows  his 
broad  acres,  reaps  his  wheat  and  puts  it  into  his  barn,  or  takes 
his  regular  income,  gets  on  so  nicely  that  he  can  do  without 
providence ;  he  does  not  care  a  bit  about  it.     The  rents  of  his 


PEOVIDENCE.  883 

flouses  all  come  in,  and  his  money  in  the  Three  per  Cents. 
is  quite  safe — what  does  he  want  w^th  providence?  But 
the  poor  man  who  has  to  work  at  day  labor,  and  some- 
times runs  very  short,  and  just  then  happens  to  meet  with 
somebody  who  gives  him  precisely  w^hat  he  wants,  he  ex- 
claims, "Well,  I  know  there  is  a  j^rovidence — I  can  not  help 
believing  it ;  these  things  could  not  have  come  by  chance." 

III.  And  now,  in  conclusion,  brethren  and  sisters,  if  these 
things  be  so,  if  the  hairs  of  our  head  are  all  numbered,  and 
if  providence  provides  for  his  people  all  things  necessary  for 
this  life,  and  godliness,  and  arranges  every  thing  with  infinite 
and  unerring  wisdom,  what  manner  of  persons  ought  we  to  be  ? 

In  the  first  place  we  ought  to  be  a  bold  race  of  people. 
What  have  we  to  fear  ?  Another  man  looks  up  and  if  he  sees 
a  lightning-flash,  he  trembles  at  its  mysterious  power.  We 
believe  it  has  its  predestined  path.  We  may  stand  and  con- 
template it;  although  we  would  not  presumptuously  expose 
ourselves  to  it,  yet  can  we  confide  in  our  God  in  the  midst  of 
the  storm.  We  are  out  at  sea,  the  waves  are  dashing  against 
the  ship,  she  reels  to  and  fro ;  other  men  shake,  because  they 
think  this  is  all  chance ;  we,  however,  see  an  order  in  the 
waves,  and  hear  a  music  in  the  winds.  It  is  for  us  to  be 
j>eaceful  and  calm.  To  other  men  the  tempest  is  a  fearful 
thing ;  we  beHeve  that  the  tempest  is  in  the  hand  of  God. 
Why  should  we  shake  ?  Why  should  we  quiver  ?  In  all  con- 
vulsions of  the  world,  in  all  temporal  distress  and  danger,  it 
is  for  us  to  stand  calm  and  collected,  looking  boldly  on.  Our 
confidence  should  be  very  much  the  same,  in  comparison  with 
the  man  who  is  not  a  believer  in  providence,  as  the  confidence 
of  some  learned  surgeon,  who,  when  he  is  going  through  an 
operation,  sees  something  very  marvelous,  but  yet  never 
shudders  at  it,  while  the  ignorant  peasant  who  has  never  seen 
any  thing  so  wonderful,  is  alarmed  and  fearful,  and  even  thinks 
that  evil  spirits  are  at  work.  We  are  to  say — let  others  say 
what  they  please — "  I  know  God  is  here,  and  I  am  his  child, 
and  this  is  all  working  for  my  good  ;  therefore  will  not  I  fear, 
though  the  earth  be  removed,  and  though  the  mountains  be 
earned  into  the  midst  of  the  sea." 


384  PROVIDENCE. 

Especially  may  I  address  this  remark  to  timid  people. 
There  are  some  of  you  who  are  frightened  at  every  little 
thing.  Oh !  if  you  could  but  believe  that  God  manages  all, 
why,  you  would  not  be  screaming  because  your  husband  is  not 
home  when  there  is  a  httle  thunder  and  lightning,  or  because 
there  is  a  mouse  in  the  parlor,  or  because  there  is  a  great  tree 
blown  down  in  the  garden.  There  is  no  necessity  you  should 
believe  that  your  brother-in-law,  who  has  gone  to  Australia, 
was  wrecked,  because  there  was  a  storm  when  he  was  at  sea. 
There  is  no  need  for  you  to  imagine,  that  your  son  in  the 
army  was  necessarily  killed,  because  he  happened  to  be  before 
Lucknow ;  or,  if  you  think  the  thing  necessary,  still,  as  a  be- 
liever in  God's  providence,  you  should  just  stand  and  say 
that  God  has  done  it,  and  it  is  yours  to  resign  all  things  into 
his  hands. 

And  I  may  say  to  those  of  you  also  who  have  been  be- 
reaved— if  you  believe  in  providence  you  may  grieve ;  but  your 
grief  must  not  be  excessive.  I  remember  at  a  funeral  of  a 
friend  hearing  a  pretty  parable  which  I  have  told  before,  and 
will  tell  again.  There  was  much  weeping  on  account  of  the 
loss  of  a  loved  one,  and  the  minister  put  it  thus.  He  said, 
"Suppose  you  are  a  gardener  employed  by  another;  it  is  not 
your  garden,  but  you  are  called  upon  to  tend  it,  and  you  have 
your  wages  paid  you.  You  have  taken  great  care  with  a  cer- 
tain number  of  roses ;  you  have  trained  them  up,  and  there 
they  are,  blooming  in  their  beauty.  You  pride  yourself  upon 
them.  You  come  one  morning  into  the  garden,  and  you  find 
that  the  best  rose  has  been  taken  away.  You  are  angry  :  you 
go  to  your  fellow-servants,  and  charge  them  with  having  taken 
the  rose.  They  will  declare  that  they  had  nothing  at  all  to 
do  with  it ;  and  one  says,  'I  saw  the  master  walking  here  this 
morning;  I  think  he  took  it.'  Is  the  gardener  angry  then? 
No,  at  once  he  says,  '  I  am  happy  that  my  rose  should  have 
been  so  fair  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  master?  It 
is  his  own :  he  hath  taken  it ;  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him 
good.' " 

It  is  even  so  with  your  friends.  They  wither  not  by  chance ; 
the  grave  is  not  filled  by  accident ;  men  die  according  to  God's 


PROVIDENCE.  885 

will.  Your  cliild  is  gone,  but  tlie  Master  took  it ;  your  hus- 
band is  gone,  your  wife  is  buried — the  Master  took  them; 
thank  him  that  he  let  you  have  the  pleasure  of  caring  for  them 
and  tending  them  while  they  were  hei*e,  and  thank  him  that 
as  he  gave,  he  himself  has  taken  away.  If  others  had  done 
it,  you  would  have  had  cause  to  bo  angry ;  but  the  Lord  has 
done  it.     Can  you,  then,  murmur  ?     AYill  you  not  say — 

"  Thee  at  all  times  will  I  bless ; 
Having  tiieo  I  all  possess  ; 
How  can  I  bereaved  be, 
Since  I  can  not  part  with  theo  ?" 

And  pardon  me  when  I  say,  finally,  that  I  think  this  doc- 
trine, if  fully  believed,  ought  to  keep  us  always  in  an  equable 
frame  of  mind.  One  of  the  things  we  most  want  is,  to  have 
our  equilibrium  always  kept  up.  Sometimes  we  are  elated. 
If  I  ever  find  myself  elated  I  know  what  is  coming.  I  know 
that  I  shall  be  depressed  in  a  very  hw  hours.  If  the  balance 
goes  too  much  up  it  is  sure  to  come  down  again.  The  hap- 
piest state  of  mind  is  to  be  always  on  the  equilibrium.  If 
good  things  come,  thank  God  for  them  ;  but  do  not  set  your 
heart  upon  them.  If  good  things  go,  thank  God  that  he  has 
taken  them  himself,  and  still  bless  his  name.  Bear  all.  He 
who  feels  that  every  thing  cometh  to  pass  according  to  God's 
will,  hath  a  great  main-stay  to  Ids  soul.  He  need  not  be 
shaken  to  and  fro  by  every  wind  that  bloweth ;  for  he  is  fast 
bound,  so  that  lie  need  not  move.  This  is  an  anchor  cast  into 
the  sea.  While  the  other  ships  are  drilling  far  away,  he  can 
ride  calmly  through. 

Strive,  dear  friends,  to  believe  this,  and  maintain  as  the  con- 
sequence of  it,  that  continual  calm  and  peace  which  render 
life  so  happy.  Do  not  get  fearing  ills  that  may  come  to-mor- 
row ;  either  they  will  not  come,  or  else  they  will  bring  good 
with  them.  If  you  have  evils  to-day,  do  not  multiply  them 
by  fearing  those  of  to-morrow.  "Sufiicient  unto  the  day  is 
the  evil  thereof."  Oh,  I  would  to  God,  that  some  of  you 
who  are  full  of  carking  care  and  anxiety,  could  be  delivered 
from  it  by  a  belief  in  providence ;  and  when  you  onco  get 

17 


886  PROVIDENCE. 

into  that  quiet  frame,  which  this  doctriae  engenders,  you  will 
be  prepared  for  those  higher  exercises  of  communion  and  fel- 
lowship VAth  Christ,  to  which  distracting  care  is  ever  a  fearful 
detriment,  if  not  an  entire  preventive. 

But  as  for  you  who  fear  not  God,  remember,  the  stones  of 
the  field  are  in  league  against  you;  the  heavens  cry  to  the 
earth  and  the  earth  answer eth  to  the  heavens,  for  vengeance 
upon  you  on  account  of  your  sins.  For  you  there  is  nothing 
good,  every  thing  is  in  rebellion  against  you.  Oh  that  God 
might  bring  you  into  peace  with  him,  and  then  you  would  be 
at  rest  with  all  beside.  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and 
his  righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  to  you." 
The  Lord  bless  you  in  this,  for  Jesus'  sake.    Amen. 


SERMON    XXIV. 
THE  VANGUARD  AND  REREWARD  OP  THE  CHURCH. 

"  The  Lord  will  go  before  you ;  and  the  God  of  Israel  wll  be  your  rero- 
ward." — Is-UAH,  lii.  12. 

The  church  of  Christ  is  continually  represented  under  the 
figure  of  an  army ;  yet  its  Captain  is  the  Prince  of  Peace ; 
its  object  is  the  establishment  of  peace,  and  its  soldiers  are 
men  of  a  peaceful  disposition.  The  spirit  of  war  is  at  the  ex- 
tremely opposite  point  to  the  spirit  of  the  gospel.  Yet  neverthe- 
less, the  church  on  earth  has  been,  and  until  the  second  advent 
must  be,  the  church  militant,  the  church  armed,  the  church  war- 
nng,  the  church  conquering.  And  how  is  this  ?  It  is  in  the  very 
order  of  things  that  so  it  must  be.  Truth  could  not  be  truth  in 
this  world  if  it  were  not  a  warring  thing,  and  we  should  at  once 
suspect  it  were  not  true  if  error  were  friends  with  it.  The 
spotless  purity  of  truth  must  always  be  at  war  with  the  black- 
ness of  heresy  and  lies.  I  say  again,  it  would  cast  a  suspicion 
upon  its  own  nature ;  we  should  feel  at  once  that  it  was  not 
true,  if  it  were  not  at  enmity  with  the  false.  And  so  at  this 
present  time,  the  church  of  Christ,  being  in  herself  the  only 
incarnation  of  truth  left  upon  this  world,  must  be  at  war  with 
error  of  every  kind  of  shape  ;  or  if  she  Avere  not,  we  should  at 
once  conclude  that  she  was  not  herself  the  church  of  the  liv- 
ing God.  It  is  but  a  rule  of  nature  tliat  holiness  must  be  at 
enmity  with  sin.  That  would  be  but  a  mock  purity  which 
could  lie  side  by  side  with  iniquity  and  claim  its  kinship. 
"Shall  the  throne  of  iniquity  have  fellowship  with  thee?" 
Shall  Christ  and  Belial  walk  together?  Shall  the  holy  be 
linked  with  the  unholy  ?  If  it  were  so,  beloved,  we  might 
then  not  only  suspect  that  the  church  was  not  the  holy,  uni- 
versal and  apostolic  church ;  we  might  not  only  suspect  it,  but 


388   THE  VANGUARD  AND  REREWARD  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

we  might  beyond  suspicion  pronounce  a  verdict  upon  her, 
"Thou  art  no  more  Christ's  bride  ;  thou  art  an  antichrist,  an 
apostate.  Reprobate  silver  shall  men  call  thee,  because  thou 
hast  not  learned  to  distinguish  between  the  precious  and  the 
vile."  Thus,  you  see,  if  the  church  be  a  true  church,  and  a 
holy  church,  she  must  be  armed:  there  are  so  many  untrue 
things  and  unholy  things,  that  she  must  be  perpetually  with 
her  sword  in  her  hand,  carrying  on  combat  against  them. 
And  every  child  of  God  proveth  by  experience  that  this  is 
the  land  of  war.  We  are  not  yet  come  to  the  time  when 
every  man  shall  sit  under  his  vine  and  under  his  fig  tree,  none 
daring  to  make  him  afraid.  The  mountains  do  not  bring 
peace  to  the  people,  nor  the  little  hills  righteousness.  On  the 
contrary,  the  children  of  God  hear  the  sound  of  war;  the 
shrill  clarion  is  constantly  sounding  in  their  ears;  they  are 
comj)elled  to  carry  with  them  the  sword  and  the  shield,  and 
constantly  to  gird  their  armor  on,  for  they  are  not  yet  come 
to  the  land  of  peace;  they  are  in  an  enemy's  country,  and 
every  day  will  convince  them  that  such  is  their  position.  Now, 
how  comforting  is  this  text  to  the  believer  who  recognizes 
himself  as  a  soldier,  and  the  whole  church  as  an  army !  The 
church  has  its  vanguard :  "  Jehovah  will  go  before  you."  The 
church  is  also  in  danger  behind ;  enemies  may  attack  her  in 
her  hinder  part,  "and  the  God  of  Israel  shall  be  her  rere  ward." 
So  that  the  army  is  safe  from  enemies  in  front — and  God  alone 
knoweth  their  strength ;  and  it  is  also  perfectly  secure  from 
any  foes  behind,  however  malicious  and  powerful  they  may 
be;  for  Jehovah  is  in  the  van,  and  the  covenant  God  of  Israel 
is  behind  :  therefore  the  whole  army  is  safe. 

I  shall  first  consider  this  as  it  respects  the  church  of  God ; 
and  then,  in  the  second  place,  I  shall  endeavor  to  consider  it 
as  it  respects  us^  as  iyidividual  believers.  May  God  comfort 
our  hearts  while  considering  this  precious  truth  ! 

I.  First,  consider  the  whole  church  of  god  as  an  army. 
Remember  that  part  of  the  host  have  crossed  the  flood ;  a 
large  part  of  the  army  are  standing  this  day  upon  the  hills  of 
glory ;  having  overcome  and  triumphed.  As  for  the  rear,  it 
stretches  far  into  the  future ;  some  portions  are  as  yet  uncre- 


THE   VANGUARD    AND   KEREWARD    OP   THE   CHURCH.       389 

ated  ;  the  last  of  God's  elect  are  not  perhaps  yet  in  existence. 
The  rear-guard  will  be  brought  up  in  that  day  when  the  last 
vessel  of  mercy  is  full  to  the  brim  of  grace,  the  last  prodigal 
is  restored  to  liis  Father's  house,  and  the  last  of  Christ's  re- 
deemed ones  redeemed  by  power,  as  they  were  of  old  re- 
deemed by  blood.  Xow,  cast  your  eye  forward  to  the  front 
of  tiie  great  army  of  God's  elect,  and  you  see  this  great  truth 
coming  up  with  great  brilliance  before  you :  "  Jehovah  shall 
go  before  youP  Is  not  this  true  ?  Have  you  never  heard  of 
the  eternal  counsel  and  of  the  everlasting  covenant  ?  Did 
that  not  go  before  the  church  ?  Yea,  my  brethren,  it  went 
before  manhood's  existence,  before  the  creation  of  this  world 
that  was  to  be  the  stage  whereon  the  church  should  play  its 
part,  before  the  formation  of  the  universe  itself,  when  as  yet 
all  things  that  we  now  behold  were  unborn,  when  God  lived 
alone  in  solitary  majesty  without  a  fellow,  when  there  were  no 
creatures.  If  there  were  such  an  eternity,  an  eternity  filled 
with  the  Creator,  and  not  one  creature  with  him,  even  then  it 
was,  that  God  determined  in  his  mind  that  he  would  form  a 
people  to  himself  who  should  show  forth  his  praise ;  it  was 
then  that  he  settled  how  men  should  be  redeemed;  it  was  then 
the  council  of  peace  "vvas  held  between  the  three  divine  per- 
sons, and  it  was  determined  that  the  Father  should  give  the 
Son,  that  the  Son  should  give  himself,  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
should  be  the  active  agent  to  fetch  out  all  the  lost  sheep,  and 
restore  them  to  the  fold.  Oh  !  think,  beloved,  of  that  great 
text  which  says,  "  His  goings  forth  were  of  old,  even  from 
everlasting."  Do  not  think  that  the  gospel  is  a  new  thing ;  it 
is  older  than  your  hoary  mountains,  nay,  it  is  older  than  the 
first-born  sons  of  light.  Before  that  "beginning,"  when  God 
created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  there  was  another  "  begin- 
ning," for  "  in  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the  Word 
was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God."  And  assuredly,  the 
gospel  was  ever  in  the  TFbrc?,  for  Jesus  was  set  up  from  ever- 
lasting as  the  great  head  of  the  covenant  of  grace.  Behold, 
then,  the  glorious  Jehovah  in  the  Trinity  of  his  persons,  tread- 
ing the  pathless  depths  of  eternity,  that  a  way  for  his  elect 
might  be  prepared  herein.     He  has  gone  before  us. 


390       THE  VANGUARD   AND   REREWARD    OF   THE   CHURCH. 

Take  another  view  of  the  case.  Jehovah  shall  go  before 
you.  Has  he  not  gone  before  his  church  in  act  and  deed  ? 
Perilous  has  been  the  journey  of  the  church  from  the  day 
when  first  it  left  Paradise  even  until  now.  When  the  church 
left  Paradise,  I  say,  for  I  believe  that  Adam  and  Eve  were  in 
the  church  of  God,  for  I  believe  that  both  of  them  were  re- 
deemed souls,  chosen  of  God,  and  precious.  I  see  God  give 
the  promise  to  them  before  they  leave  the  garden,  and  they 
go  out  from  the  garden,  the  church  of  God.  Since  that  time, 
what  a  path  has  the  church  had  to  tread,  but  how  faithfully 
has  Jehovah  led  the  way.  We  see  the  floods  gather  round 
about  her,  but  even  then  she  floats  safely  in  the  ark  which  Je- 
hovah had  provided  for  her  beforehand,  for  the  Lord  had  gone 
before  her.  I  see  the  church  going  out  from  Ur  of  the  Chal- 
dees.  It  is  but  a  little  church,  with  the  patriarch  Abraham  at 
its  head.  I  see  that  little  church  dwelling  in  an  enemy's  coun- 
try, moving  to  and  fro  ;  but  I  observe  how  the  Lord  is  its  con- 
stant leader — "  When  they  went  from  one  nation  to  another, 
from  one  kingdom  to  another  people ;  he  sufiered  no  man  to 
do  them  wrong  :  yea,  he  reproved  kings  for  their  sakes  ;  say- 
ing. Touch  not  mine  anointed,  and  do  my  prophets  no  harm.'* 
I  see  the  church  afterwards  going  down  to  the  lands  of  the 
cruel  Pharaohs.  It  was  a  black  part  of  her  pilgrimage,  for 
she  was  going  to  the  lash  of  the  taskmaster  and  to  the  heat 
of  the  burning,  fiery  furnace ;  but  I  see  Joseph  going  down 
before,  Jehovah's  great  representative ;  Joseph  goeth  down 
into  Egypt,  and  he  saith,  "  God  sent  me  before  you  to  pro- 
vide a  place  for  you  in  the  time  of  famine."  So  sings  the 
Psalmist,  "  He  sent  a  man  before  them,  even  Joseph,  who  was 
sold  for  a  servant ;  whose  feet  they  hurt  with  fetters  :  he  was 
laid  in  iron  :  until  the  time  that  his  word  came  :  the  word  of 
the  Lord  tried  him.  The  king  sent  and  loosed  him  ;  even  the 
ruler  of  the  people,  and  let  him  go  free.  He  made  him  lord 
of  his  house,  and  ruler  of  all  his  substance  :  to  bind  his  princes 
at  his  pleasure ;  and  teach  his  senators  wisdom.  Israel  also 
came  into  Egypt ;  and  Jacob  sojourned  in  the  land  of  Ham." 
But  now  the  church  has  to  come  up  out  of  Egypt,  and  God 
goes  before  her  still ;  "  but  made  his  own  people  to  go  forth 


THE  VANGUARD  AND  REREWARD  OF  THE  CHURCH.   391 

like  sheep,  and  guided  tliem  in  the  wilderness  like  a  flock.  And 
ue  led  them  on  safely,  so  tliat  they  feared  not :  but  the  sea  over- 
whelmed their  enemies'."  Tlie  Red  sea  is  before  them ;  Jehovah 
goes  in  front,  and  dries  up  the  sea.  The  desert  must  then  be 
trodden  ;  Jehovah  marches  in  front,  and  scatters  manna  with 
both  his  hands ;  he  splits  the  rock,  and  sends  out  a  living 
stream.  For  forty  years  the  church  wanders  there  ;  Jehovah 
is  with  them  ;  the  fiery  cloud-pillar  leads  them  all  their  jour- 
ney through.  And  now  they  come  to  the  banks  of  Jordan  ; 
they  are  about  to  enter  into  the  promised  land  ;  Jehovah  goes 
before  them,  and  the  Jordan  is  driven  back,  and  the  floods 
are  dry.  They  came  into  the  country  of  the  mighty  ones,  the 
sons  of  Anak,  men  that  were,  of  the  race  of  giants  ;  but  Jeho- 
vah was  gone  before  them  ;  the  hornet  was  sent  and  the  pes- 
tilence, so  that  when  they  came  they  said  it  was  a  land  that 
did  eat  up  the  inhabitants  thereof,  for  God  himself  with  the 
sword  and  the  pestilence  w^as  mowing  down  their  foes  that 
they  might  be  an  easier  victory.  "  And  he  brought  them  to 
the  border  of  his  sanctuary,  even  to  this  mountain,  which  his 
right  hand  had  purchased.  He  cast  out  the  heathen  also  be- 
fore them,  and  divided  them  an  inheritance  by  line,  and  made 
the  tribes  of  Israel  to  dwell  in  their  tents." 

But  why  need  I  go  through  all  the  pages  of  the  history  of 
the  church  of  God  in  the  days  of  the  old  dispensation  ?  Hath 
it  not  been  true  from  the  days  of  John  .the  Baptist  until  now  ? 
Brethren,  bow  can  ye  account  for  the  glorious  triumphs  of  the 
church  if  ye  deny  the  fact  that  God  has  gone  before  her  ?  I 
see  the  church  emerge,  as  it  were,  from  the  bowels  of  Christ. 
Twelve  fishermen — what  are  these  to  do  ?  Do  ?  Why  they 
are  to  shake  the  world,  to  uproot  old  systems  of  paganism  that 
have  become  venerable,  and  whose  antiquity  seems  a  guaran- 
tee that  men  will  never  renounce  tliem.  These  men  are  to 
blot  out  the  name  of  Jupiter ;  they  are  to  cast  Venus  from 
her  licentious  throne ;  they  are  to  pull  down  the  temple  of 
Delphos,  scatter  all  the  oracles,  and  disrobe  the  priests ;  these 
men  are  to  overthrow  a  system  and  an  empire  of  error  that 
has  stood  for  thousands  of  years — a  system  which  has  brought 
in  to  its  help  all  the  philosophy  of  learning  and  all  the  pomp 


392  THE   VANGUARD   AXD   REREWARD    OF   THE   CHURCH. 

of  power ; — these  twelve  fishermen  are  to  do  it.  And  they 
have  done  it,  they  have  done  it.  The  gods  of  the  heathen  are 
cast  down  ;  they  only  remain  among  ns  as  memorials  of  men's 
folly ;  but  who  bows  down  to  Jupiter  now  ?  Where  is  the 
worshiper  of  Ashtoroth  ?  Who  calls  Diana  a  divinity  ?  The 
twelve  fishermen  have  done  it ;  they  have  erased  from  the 
world  the  old  system  of  superstition ;  it  seemeed  old  as  the 
eternal  hills,  yet  have  they  dug  up  its  foundations  and  scat- 
tered them  to  the  winds.  Could  they  have  accomplished  it 
unless  Jehovah  had  been  in  the  van  and  led  the  way  ?  No, 
beloved,  if  ye  read  the  history  of  the  church,  ye  will  be  com^ 
pelled  to  confess  that  whenever  she  went  forward  she  could 
discern  the  footsteps  of  Jehovah,  leading  the  way.  Our  mis- 
sionaries in  these  later  times  tell  us  that  when  they  went  to 
the  South  Seas  to  preach  the  gospel,  there  was  an  evident  pre- 
paredness in  the  minds  of  the  people  for  the  reception  of  the 
truth,  and  I  believe  that  at  this  time,  if  the  church  were  true 
to  herself,  there  are  nations  and  people  and  tribes  that  are  just 
in  the  condition  of  the  ancient  Canaanites :  the  hornet  is  among 
them  making  way  for  the  Lord's  army  to  win  an  easy  conquest. 
But  sure  I  am  that  never  minister  ascends  the  pulpit,  if  he  be 
a  true  minister  of  Christ,  never  missionary  crosses  the  sea, 
n^ver  Sunday  School  teacher  goes  to  his  work,  but  that  Jeho- 
vah goes  before  him  to  help  him  if  he  goes  in  earnest  prayer 
and  cQUstant  faith.  If  I  were  a  poet  I  think  I  have  a  subject 
that  might  suggest  a  grand  epic  poem — the  march  of  the 
church  through  the  world,  with  Jehovah  in  her  fore-front. 
See,  when  first  she  comes  forth,  "  the  kings  of  the  earth  stand 
up,  and  the  rulers  take  counsel  together,  against  the  Lord  and 
against  his  anointed."  Alas,  poor  church,  what  is  now  thy 
fate  ?  But  I  hear  a  voice  a-head.  What  is  it  ?  It  is  a  laugh. 
Who  laughs  ?  Why  the  leader  of  the  army  laughs.  "  He 
that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugh  at  them.  The  Lord 
shall  have  them  in  derision."  And  shall  vre  that  are  behind 
be  mourning  ?  Shall  the  church  tremble  ?  Let  her  call  to 
mind  the  days  of  old,  and  comfort  herself,  that  the  Breaker 
has  gone  up  before  her,  and  the  King  at  the  head  of  her. 
But  the  enemy  approaches.     They  bring  out  the  rack,  the 


THE   VAXGUARD   AND   REKEWARD    OF   TUE   CHURCH.        393 

bloody  sword,  the  burning  fagot.  The  march  of  the  church 
lies  through  the  flames,  the  flood  must  be  forded,  torments 
must  be  endured.  Did  the  church  ever  stop  a  moment  in  its 
march  for  all  the  martyrdoms  that  fell  upon  her  like  the  drops 
of  a  fiery  shower  ?  Never,  never  did  the  church  seem  to 
march  on  with  feet  so  ready,  never  were  her  steps  so  firm  as 
when  she  dipped  her  foot  each  time  in  blood,  and  every  mo- 
ment passed  through  the  tire.  It  was  the  marvel  of  those 
days  that  men  were  better  Christians  then,  and  more  willing 
to  make  a  profession  of  Christ  than  they  are  even  now.  And 
whereas  this  seems  to  be  the  day  of  cravens,  the  time  of  per- 
secution w^as  the  age  of  heroes,  the  time  of  the  great  and  the 
bold.  And  why  ?  Because  God  had  gone  beforehand  with 
his  church,  and  provided  stores  of  grace  for  stores  of  trouble, 
shelter  and  mercy  for  tempests  and  persecution,  abundance  of 
strength  for  a  superfluity  of  trial.  Happy  is  the  church,  be- 
cause God  has  gone  before  her.  Whether  it  were  over  the 
tops  of  the  mountains,  where  her  pastors  fell  frozen  by  cold, 
or  whether  it  were  in  the  depths  of  the  dungeon  where  her 
confessors  expired  upon  the  rack,  whether  it  were  in  the  flame 
or  at  the  block,  everywhere  God  went  before  his  church,  and 
she  came  forth  triunij)hant  because  her  great  vanguard  had 
cleared  tlie  way. 

And  now,  beloved,  we  have  come  to  the  sweet  part  of  the 
text,  which  saith,  "  And  the  God  of  Israel  shall  be  the  rere- 
ward."  The  original  Hebrew  is,  "  God  of  Israel  shall  gather 
you  up."  Armies  in  the  time  of  war  diminish  by  reason  of 
stragglers,  some  of  whom  desert,  and  others  of  whom  are 
overcouie  by  fatigue  ;  but  the  army  of  God  is  "  gathered  up  j" 
none  desert  from  it  if  they  bo  real  soldiers  of  the  cross,  and 
none  drop  down  upon  the  road.  The  God  of  Israel  gathers 
them  up.  He  who  goes  before,  like  a  shepherd  before  the 
flock,  providing  pasture  for  them,  comes  behind  that  he  may 
gather  the  lambs  in  "his  arms — that  he  may  gently  lead  those 
that  are  with  young.  "The  God  of  Israel  is  your  rereward." 
Now  the  church  of  Christ  has  been  frequently  attacked  in  the 
rear.  It  often  happens  that  the  enemy,  tired  of  opposing  her 
onward  march  by  open  persecution,  attempts  to  malign  the 


.394         THE   VANGUARD   AND   REREWARD    OF   THE  CHURCH. 

church  concerning  somethnig  that  has  either  been  taught,  or 
revealed,  or  done  in  past  ages.  Now,  the  God  of  Israel  is  our 
rereward.  I  am  never  at  trouble  about  the  attacks  of  infidels 
or  heretics,  however  vigorously  they  may  assault  the  doctrines 
of  the  gospel.  I  will  leave  them  alone  ;  I  have  no  answer  for 
their  logic  ;  if  they  look  to  be  resisted  by  mere  reason,  they 
look  in  vain;  I  have  the  simple  answer  of  an  affirmation, 
grounded  upon  the  fact  that  God  had  said  it.  It  is  the  only 
warfare  I  will  enter  into  with  them.  If  they  must  attack  the 
rear  let  them  fight  with  Jehovah  himself.  If  the  doctrines  of 
the  gospel  be  as  base  as  they  say  they  are,  let  them  cast  dis- 
credit upon  God,  who  revealed  the  doctrines ;  let  them  settle 
the  question  between  God's  supreme  wisdom  and  their  own 
pitiful  pretensions  to  knowledge.  It  is  not  for  Christian  men 
to  fear  about  the  rear  of  the  church.  The  doctrines  of  the 
gospel,  which  are  like  the  heavy  baggage  carried  in  the  rear, 
or  like  the  great  guns  kept  behind  against  the  time  when  they 
are  wanted  in  the  hour  of  battle,  these  are  quite  safe.  The 
Amalekites  may  fall  upon  the  stufi*,  or  the  Philistines  may  at- 
tack the  ammunition,  all  is  safe,  for  God  is  in  the  rereward ; 
and  let  them  but  appear  against  our  rear,  and  they  sliall  in- 
stantly be  put  to  the  rout. 

But  I  am  thinking  that  perhaps  the  later  trials  of  the  church 
may  represent  the  rereward.  There  are  to  come,  perhaps,  to 
the  church,  in  days  that  are  approaching,  fiercer  persecutions 
than  she  has  ever  known.  We  can  not  tell,  we  are  no  pre- 
tenders to  prophecy,  but  we  know  that  it  always  has  been  so 
with  the  church — a  time  of  prosperity  and  then  a  period  of 
persecution.  She  has  a  Solomon,  and  she  reigns  in  all  her 
glory  under  his  shadow ;  but  in  after  years  Antiochus  op- 
presses her,  and  she  needs  a  Judas  Maccaba3us  to  deliver  her. 
Perhaps  we  are  liviug  in  an  age  too  soft  for  the  church.  The 
Capuan  holidays  that  ruined  the  soldiers  of  Hannibal  may  ruin 
the  church  now  ;  ease  and  lack  of  persecution  may  put  us  off 
our  guard.  Perhaps  there  may  come  yet  fiercer  times  for  us. 
I  know  not  what  is  meant  by  the  battle  of  Armageddon,  but 
sometimes  I  fear  we  are  to  expect  trial  and  trouble  in  years 
to  come  ;  but  certain  I  am,  however  fierce  those  troubles  shall 


THE  VANGUARD  AND  KEREWARD  OP  THE  CHURCH.    395 

be,  that  God,  who  has  gone  before  his  church  in  olden  times, 
will  gather  up  the  rear,  and  she  who  has  been  ecclesia  victrix 
— the  church  the  conqueror — will  still  be  the  same,  and  her 
rear  shall  constitute  at  last  a  part  of  the  church  triumphant, 
even  as  already  glorified. 

Can  you  now  conceive  the  last  great  day  when  Jehovah, 
the  rereward,  shall  gather  up  his  people  ?  The  time  is  come  ; 
the  last  of  the  salt  is  about  to  be  removed  ;  the  church  of  God 
is  now  about  to  be  carried  up  to  dwell  with  her  husband.  Do 
you  see  the  church  moving  upward  towards  heaven  ?  Behind 
her  she  leaves  a  world  in  flames  ;  she  sees  the  earth  destroyed, 
God  removes  it  as  a  shepherd's  tent ;  the  inhabitants  thereof  are 
gone,  and  the  tent  must  be  folded  up ;  as  a  vesture  shall  they 
be  folded  up,  and  they  shall  be  changed.  But  between  the 
church  and  a  blazing  world,  between  the  church  and  the  terri- 
"ble  destruction  of  hell,  there  is  the  bright  pillar  of  God's  pres- 
ence— black  to  his  enemies  behind,  but  bright  to  his  church 
in  front.  The  close  of  the  great  dispensation  of  the  Mediator 
shall  be  that  the  God  of  Israel  shall  be  all  in  all,  his  church 
shall  be  completely  safe  ;  he  shall  have  gathered  up  all  things 
in  one,  whether  they  be  things  in  heaven  or  things  on  earth. 
Then  shall  the  sonnet  of  the  poet  be  more  than  fulfilled  to  the 
rejoicing  and  perfected  church  : — 

"  Daughter  of  Zion,  awako  from  thy  sadness, 
Awake,  for  thy  foes  shall  oppress  thco  no  more ; 
Bright  o'er  thy  hill  dawns  the  day-star  of  gladness ; 
Arise,  for  the  night  of  thy  sorrow  is  o'er. 

"  Strong  were  thy  foes,  but  the  arm  that  subdued  them, 
And  scattered  their  len^ons,  was  mightier  far ; 
They  fled,  Uke  the  chaff,  from  the  scourge  that  pursued  them — 
Vain  were  their  steeds,  and  their  chariots  of  war. 

"  Daughter  of  Zion,  the  power  that  hath  saved  thee. 
Extolled  with  the  harp  and  the  timbrel  should  be : 
Shout,  for  the  foe  is  destroyed  that  enslaved  thee. 
The  oppressor  is  vanquished,  and  Zion  is  free." 

II.  Let  us  turn  to  the  second  part  of  the  sermon.  This  is 
the  last  Sabbath  of  the  year.  Two  troubles  present  them- 
selves, the  future  and  the  past.     We  shall  soon  launch  into 


396   THE  VAXGUARD  AND  RKREWARD  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

another  year,  and  hitherto  we  have  found  our  years,  years  of 
trouble.  TVe  have  had  mercies,  but  still  we  find  this  house  of 
our  pilgrimage  is  not  an  abiding  city,  not  a  mansion  of  peace  and 
comfort.  Perhaps  we  are  trembling  to  go  forward.  Foreseeing 
trouble,  we  know  not  how  we  shall  be  able  to  endure  to  the  end. 
We  are  standing  here  and  pausing  for  a  v/hile,  sitting  down  up- 
on the  stone  of  our  Ebenezer  to  rest  ourselves,  gazing  dubiously 
into  the  future,  saying,  "Alas  !  ^vhat  shall  I  do  ?  Surely,  I  shall 
one  day  fall  by  the  hand  of  the  enemy."  Brother,  arise,  arise  ; 
anoint  your  head,  and  wash  your  face,  and  fast  no  longer ;  let 
this  sweet  morsel  now  cheer  you  ;  put  this  bottle  to  your  lips, 
and  let  your  eyes  be  enlightened :  "  The  Lord  Jehovah  will  go 
before  you."  He  has  gone  before  you  already.  Your  future 
path  has  all  been  marked  out  in  the  great  decrees  of  his  pre- 
destination. You  shall  not  tread  a  step  which  is  not  mapped 
out  in  the  great  chart  of  God's  decree.  Your  troubles  have 
been  already  weighed  for  you  in  the  scales  of  his  love ;  your 
labor  is  already  set  aside  for  you  to  accomplish  by  the  hand  of 
his  wisdom.     Depend  upon  it, 

"  Tour  times  of  trial  and  of  grief, 
Your  times  of  joy  and  sweet  relief, 
All  Shall  come  and  last  and  end 
As  shall  please  your  heavenly  Eriend." 

Remember,  you  are  not  a  child  of  chance.  If  your  were, 
you  might  indeed  fear.  You  will  go  nowhere  next  year  ex- 
cept where  God  shall  send  you.  You  shall  be  thrust  into  the 
hot  coals  of  the  fire,  but  God.  shall  put  you  there.  You  shall 
perhaps  be  much  depressed  in  spirit,  but  that  heaviness  shall 
be  for  your  good,  and  shall  come  from  your  Father ;  you  shall 
have  the  rod,  but  it  shall  not  be  the  rod  of  the  wicked — it 
shall  be  in  God's  hand.  Oh !  how  comfortable  the  thought 
that  every  thing  is  in  the  hand  of  God,  and  that  all  that  may 
occur  to  me  during  the  future  years  of  my  life  is  foreordained 
and  overruled  by  the  great  Jehovah,  who  is  my  Father  and 
my  Friend  !  Now  stop.  Christian,  a  moment,  and  realize  the 
idea  that  God  has  gone  before,  mapping  the  way ;  and  then 
let  me  ask  you,  if  you  could  now  this  morning  be  allowed  to 


THE  VANGUARD  AND  KEREWARD  OP  THE  CHURCH.    397 

draw  a  fresh  map,  would  you  do  it  ?  If  he  should  condescend 
to  say,  "  Now  your  circumstances  next  year  shall  be  just  what 
you  like ;  y^u  shall  have  your  own  way,  and  go  your  own 
route  to  heaven,  would  you  dare,  even  with  God's  permission, 
to  draw  a  new  chart?"  If  you  should  have  that  presumption, 
I  know  the  result :  you  would  find  that  you  had  gone  the 
wrong  way;  you  would  soon  be  glad  enough  to  retrace  your 
steps,  and  with  many  tears  you  would  go  to  your  heavenly  Fa- 
ther, and  say,  "  My  Father,  I  have  had  enough  to  do  with 
the  helm  of  this  ship ;  it  is  hard  work  to  hold  it ;  do  what 
thou  wilt  with  it ;  steer  which  way  thou  pleasest,  though  it  be 
through  the  deepest  floods  and  the  hottest  flame.  I  am  weary, 
I  sleep  at  the  tiller,  I  can  not  guide  the  ship,  my  tears  fall  fast 
from  my  eyes,  for  when  I  think  to  be  wise  I  find  myself  to 
have  committed  folly ;  when  I  thought  I  was  promoting  my 
own  advantage  in  my  scheme,  I  find  I  am  rushing  into  a  sea 
of  losses."  God,  then,  has  gone  before  you  in  the  decree  of 
his  predestination. 

And  recollect,  God  has  gone  before  you  in  all  your  future 
journey  in  the  actual  prepa7'ations  of  his  providoice. 

I  do  not  think  I  am  capable  this  morning,  for  my  mind  seems 
to  wander  far  more  than  I  could  desire,  of  sketching  how  it  is, 
but  so  it  is,  that  God  always  makes  a  providence  beforehand 
ready  for  his  people  when  they  get  to  the  place.  My  God 
does  not  hastily  erect  a  tent  over  me  when  I  come  to  a  certain 
spot.  Ko  ;  he  builds  an  inn  of  mercy,  and  before  I  get  there 
he  provides  a  bed  of  comfort,  and  stores  up  the  old  wines  of 
grace,  that  I  may  feast  upon  them.  And  all  this  is  done  long 
before  I  come  to  the  actual  necessity.  None  of  us  can  tell 
how  the  future  leans  on  the  past,  how  a  simple  act  of  to-day 
shall  bring  about  a  grand  event  in  a  hundred  years.  We  do 
not  know  how  the  future  lies  in  the  bowels  of  the  past,  and 
how  what  is  to  be  is  the  child  of  t/iat  which  is.  As  all  men 
spring  from  their  progenitors,  so  the  providence  of  to-day 
springs  from  the  providence  of  a  hundred  years  past.  The 
events  of  next  year  have  been  forestalled  by  God  in  what  he 
has  done  this  year  and  years  before.  I  am  certain  of  this, 
that  on  the  road  I  am  to  travel  during  the  next  year,  every 


398         THE   VANGUARD    AND   REREWARD    OF   THE   CHURCH. 

thing  is  ready  for  me.  I  am  not  going  a  road  of  hills  and 
deep  valleys,  but  I  have  heard  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the 
wilderness,  "  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord,  make  straight 
in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our  God.  Every  valley  shall  be 
exalted,  and  every  mountain  and  hill  shall  be  made  low:  and 
the  crooked  shall  be  made  straight,  and  the  rough  places 
plain ;  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  revealed,  and  all 
flesh  shall  see  it  together ;  for  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath 
spoken  it."  "  I  will  open  rivers  in  high  places,  and  fountains 
in  the  midst  of  the  valleys  ;  I  will  make  the  wilderness  a  pool 
of  water,  and  the  dry  land  springs  of  water."  "  And  I  will 
bring  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  knew  not ;  I  will  lead 
them  in  paths  that  they  have  not  known  ;  I  will  make  dark- 
ness light  before  them,  and  crooked  things  straight.  These 
things  will  I  do  unto  them,  and  not  forsake  them."  I  say 
again,  you  are  not  going  through  a  land  that  God  has  not  pre- 
pared for  you.  O  Israel,  there  is  a  well  of  Elim  made  for  you 
long  before  you  came  out  of  Egypt,  and  there  are  palm  trees 
that  have  been  growing  there  that  they  might  just  come  to 
the  fruit-bearing  state,  and  have  fruit  upon  them,  when  you 
come  there.  O  Israel,  God  is  not  going  to  extemporize  a  Ca- 
naan for  you ;  it  ia  ready  made,  it  is  even  now  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey;  the  vines  that  are  to  bear  you  grapes  of 
Eschol  are  already  there  and  coming  to  perfection.  God  has 
forestalled  your  trials  and  troubles  for  the  next  year.  The 
Lord  Jehovah  has  gone  before  you. 

There  is  also  another  phase  of  this  subject.  Jehovah  has 
gone  before  us  in  the  incaryiation  of  Christ.  As  to  our  future 
troubles  for  next  year  and  the  remnant  of  our  days,  Jesus 
Christ  has  borne  them  all  before.  As  for  temptation,  he  "  has 
been  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin." 
As  for  trials  and  sorrows,  he  has  felt  all  we  can  possibly  feel, 
and  infinitely  more.  As  for  our  difiiculties,  Christ  has  trodden 
the  road  before.  We  may  rest  quite  sure  that  we  shall  not 
go  anywhere  where  Christ  has  not  gone.  The  way  of  God's 
people  in  providence  is  the  exact  track  of  Christ  himself  The 
footsteps  of  the  flock  are  identical  with  the  footsteps  of  the 
shepherd,  so  far  as  they  follow  the  leading  and  guidings  of  God. 


THE  VANGUARD  AND  REBEWARD  OF  THE  CHURCH.   399 

And  there  is  this  reflection  also,  that,  inasmuch  as  Christ  has 
gone  before  us,  he  has  done  something  in  that  going  before, 
for  he  has  conquered  every  foe  that  lies  in  his  way.  Cheer  up 
now,  thou  faint-hearted  warrior.  Not  only  has  Christ  traveled 
the  road,  but  he  has  slain  thine  enemies.  Dost  thou  dread 
sin  ?  he  has  nailed  it  to  his  cross.  Dost  thou  dread  Death  ?  he 
has  been  the  death  of  Death.  Art  thou  afraid  of  hell  ?  he  has 
barred  it  against  the  advent  of  any  of  his  children  ;  they  shall 
never  see  the  gulf  of  perdition.  Whatever  foes  may  be  before 
the  Christian,  they  are  all  overcome.  There  are  lions,  but 
their  teeth  are  broken  ;  there  are  serpents,  but  their  fangs  are 
extracted  ;  there  are  rivers,  but  they  are  bridged  or  fordable  ; 
there  are  flames,  but  we  have  upon  lis  that  matchless  garment 
which  renders  us  invulnerable  to  fire.  The  sword  that  has 
been  forged  against  us  is  already  blunted  ;  the  instruments  of 
war  which  the  enemy  is  preparing  have  already  lost  their 
point.  God  has  taken  away  in  the  person  of  Christ  all  the 
power  that  any  thing  can  have  to  hurt  us.  Well,  then,  the 
army  may  safely  march  on  and  you  may  go  joyously  along  your 
journey,  for  all  your  enemies  are  conquered  beforehand.  What 
shall  you  do  but  march  on  to  take  the  prey  ?  They  are  beaten, 
they  are  vanquished  ;  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  divide  the  spoil. 
Your  future  life  shall  be  only  the  dividing  of  the  spoil.  You 
shall,  it  is  true,  often  dread  combat ;  and  you  shall  sometimes 
have  to  wield  the  spear,  but  your  fight  shall  be  with  a  van- 
quished foe.  His  head  is  broken  ;  he  may  attempt  to  injure 
you,  but  his  strength  shall  not  be  sufficient  for  his  malicious 
design.  Your  victory  shall  be  easy,  and  your  treasure  shall 
be  beyond  all  count.  Come  boldly  on,  then,  for  Jehovah  shall 
go  before  you.  This  shall  be  our  sweet  song  when  we  come 
to  the  river  of  death :  black  are  its  streams,  and  there  are 
terrors  there  of  which  I  can  not  dream.  But  shall  I  fear  to 
go  through  the  dark  stream  if  Jehovah  goes  before  me? 
There  may  be  goblins  of  frightful  shape,  there  may  be  horrors 
of  a  hellish  hue,  but  thou,  Jehovah,  shalt  clear  the  way,  thou 
shalt  bid  each  enemy  begone,  and  each  fiend  shall  flee  at  thy 
bidding.  I  may  march  safely  on.  So  confident  would  I  feel 
in  this  great  vanguard,  thai  shouldst  thou  bid  me  go  through 


400   THE  VANGUARD  AND  REREWAKD  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

hell  itself,  I  need  not  fear  all  the  terrors  of  the  place  of  doona  ; 
for  if  Jehovah  went  before,  he  would  tread  out  even  to  the 
last  spark  the  fire ;  he  would  quench  even  to  the  last  flame 
that  burning  ;  and  the  child  of  God  might  marcli  safely  through 
the  flame  that  had  been  quenched  and  the  ashes  that  were  ex- 
tinguished. Let  us  therefore  never  be  troubled  about  the  fu- 
tui'e.     It  is  all  safe,  for  Jehovah  has  gone  before. 

•  Now  I  hear  one  say,  "The  future  seldom  troubles  me,  sir ; 
it  is  the  past — what  I  have  done  and  what  I  have  not  done — 
the  years  that  are  gone — how  I  have  sinned,  and  how  I  have 
not  served  my  Master  as  I  ought.  These  things  grieve  me, 
and  sometimes  my  old  sins  start  up  in  my  recollection  and  ac- 
cuse me  ;  '  What !  shalt  thou  be  saved  ?'  say  they  ;  '  remember 
us.'  And  they  spring  up  in  number  like  the  sands  of  the  sea. 
I  can  not  deny  that  I  have  committed  all  these  sins,  nor  can  I 
say  that  they  are  not  the  most  guilty  of  iniquities.  Oh  !  it  is 
the  rereward  that  is  most  unsafe.  I  dread  most  the  sins  of  the 
past."  O  beloved,  the  God  of  Israel  shall  be  your  rereward. 
Notice  the  different  titles.  The  first  is  "  the  Lord,"  or  prop- 
erly "  Jehovah" — "  Jehovah  will  go  before  you."  That  is 
the  I  am,  full  of  omniscience  and  omnipotence.  The  second 
title  is  "  God  of  Israel,"  that  is  to  say,  the  God  of  the  Cove- 
nant. We  want  the  God  of  the  Covenant  behind,  because  it 
is  not  in  the  capacity  of  the  I  am,  the  omnipotent,  that  wo 
require  him  to  pardon  sin,  to  accept  our  persons,  to  blot  out 
the  past,  and  to  remove  iniquity  by  the  blood  of  Christ ;  it  is 
as  the  God  of  the  Covenant  that  he  does  that.  He  goes  be- 
hind ;  here  he  finds  that  his  child  has  left  a  black  mark,  and 
he  takes  that  away ;  he  finds  here  a  heap  of  rubbish,  a  mass 
of  broken  good  works,  and  here  another  load  of  evil,  of  filth, 
and  he  carefully  removes  all,  so  that  in  that  track  of  his  chil- 
dren there  is  not  a  spot  or  a  blemish  ;  and  though  they  have 
trodden  the  road,  the  most  observant  of  their  foes  at  the  last 
great  day  shall  not  be  able  to  find  that  they  have  done  any 
mischief  on  their  journey,  or  one  wrong  thing  in  all  their 
march,  for  the  God  of  Israel  hath  so  swept  the  way  that  he  has 
taken  away  their  iniquities  and  cast  their  sins  behind  his  back. 
Now  let  me  always  think,  that  I  have  God  behind  rae  as 


THE  VANGUARD  AXD  EEEEWAED  OF  THE  CHURCH.   401 

well  as  before  me.  Let  not  the  memories  of  the  past,  though 
they  cause  me  grief,  cause  me  despair.  Let  me  never  bemoan 
because  of  past  trial  or  past  bereavement ;  let  me  never  be 
cast  down  on  account  of  past  sin ;  but  let  me  look  to  Christ 
for  the  pardon  of  the  past ;  and  to  God  for  the  sanctification 
of  my  past  troubles.  Let  me  believe  that  he  who  has  cleared 
the  way  before  me,  has  removed  all  enemies  from  behind  me, 
that  I  am  and  must  be  perpetually  safe.  And  now,  are  there 
any  here  to-day  whose  hearts  God  hath  touched,  who  desire  to 
join  this  great  army  ?  Have  I  one  here  who  has  been  enlisted 
in  the  black  army  of  the  devil,  and  has  long  been  fighting  his 
way  against  God  and  against  right  ?  I  pray  that  he  may  be 
compelled  this  day  to  ground  his  arms,  and  surrender  at  dis- 
cretion to  God.  Sinner,  if  the  Lord  inclines  thine  heart  this 
day  to  yield  up  thyself  to  him,  the  past  shall  all  be  blotted 
out ;  God  shall  be  thy  rereward.  As  for  thy  innumerable  sins, 
leave  them  to  Christ,  he  will  make  short  work  of  them  ;  by 
his  blood  he  will  slay  them  all ;  they  shall  not  be  mentioned 
against  thee  for  ever.  And  as  for  the  future,  thou  chief  of 
sinners,  if  now  thou  enlistest  into  the  army  of  Christ  by  faith, 
thou  shalt  find  the  future  shall  be  strewn  with  the  gold  of 
God's  grace,  and  the  silver  of  his  temporal  mercies ;  thou 
shalt  have  enough  and  to  spare,  from  this  day  forth  even  to 
the  end,  and  at  the  last  thou  shalt  be  gathered  in  by  the  great 
arms  of  God,  that  constitute  the  rear-guard  of  his  heavenly 
army.  Come,  ye  chief  of  sinners,  come  away  to  Christ.  He 
now  invites  you  to  come  to  him ;  he  asks  nothing  of  you  as  a 
preparation.  Christ's  regiment  is  made  up  of  men  that  are  in 
debt  and  are  discontented  :  the  refuse  of  the  world  Christ 
will  take :  the  scum,  the  dross,  the  oflTal  of  the  universe  Christ 
loves  ;  the  sweepings  of  our  dens  of  iniquity,  the  very  leavings 
of  the  devil's  mill  Christ  is  willing  to  receive,  the  chief  of 
sinners,  those  who  have  been  ministers  in  guilt,  abortions  of 
iniquity.  Come  to  him ;  lay  hold  of  him  by  faith  ;  look  to 
him  as  he  hangs  upon  the  tree  ;  believe  in  his  merits,  and  then 
shall  this  promise  be  yours,  with  innumerable  others  that  are 
rich  beyond  all  estimation  ;  and  you  shall  rejoice  that  Jehovah 
is  gone  before  you,  and  that  the  God  of  Israel  is  your  rereward. 


SERMON     XXV. 
THE  WORLD  TURNED  UPSIDE  DOWN. 

"These  that  have  turned  the  world  upside  down  ai-e  come  hitlier  also." — 
Acts,  xvii.  6. 

This  is  just  an  old  version  of  an  ofl-repeated  story.  When 
disturbances  arise  in  a  state,  and  rebellions  and  mutinies  cause 
blood  to  be  shed,  it  is  still  the  custom  to  cry,  "  The  Christians 
have  done  this."  In  the  days  of  Jesus  we  know  that  it  was 
laid  to  the  charge  of  our  blessed  and  divine  Master,  that  he 
was  a  stirrer  of  sedition,  whereas  he  himself  had  refused  to  be 
a  king,  when  his  followers  would  have  taken  him  by  force  to 
make  him  one,  for  he  said,  "My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world  ;"  yet  was  he  crucified  under  the  two  false  charges  of 
sedition  and  blasphemy.  The  same  thing  occurred  with  the 
apostles.  Wherever  they  went  to  preach  the  gospel,  the 
Jews  who  opposed  them  sought  to  stir  up  the  refuse  of  the 
city  to  put  an  end  to  their  ministiy ;  and  then,  when  a  great 
tumult  had  been  made  by  the  Jews  themselves,  who  had 
taken  unto  them  certain  lewd  fellows  of  the  baser  sort,  and 
gathered  a  company,  and  set  all  the  city  in  an  uproar,  and  as- 
saulted the  house  of  Jason,  and  sought  to  bring  him  out  to 
the  people,  then  the  Jews  laid  the  tumult  and  the  uproar  at 
the  door  of  the  apostles,  saying,  "  These  that  have  turned  the 
world  upside  down  are  come  hither  also."  This  plan  was  fol- 
lowed all  through  the  Roman  empire,  until  Christianity  be- 
came the  state  religion.  There  was  never  a  calamity  befell 
Rome,  never  a  war  arose,  never  a  famine  or  a  plague,  but  the 
vulgar  multitude  cried,  "The  Christians  to  the  lions!  The 
Christians  have  done  this."  Kero  himself  imputed  the  burn- 
ing of  Rome,  of  which  *he  himself  doubtless  was  the  incen- 
diary, to  the  Christians.  The  believers  in  Jesus  were  slan- 
dered as  if  they  were  the  common  sewer  into  which  all  the 


THE    -WORLD    TTR^TH)    UTSIDE    DQ-^VN.  403 

filth  of  sin  was  to  be  poui'ed ;  whereas,  they  were  like  Solomon's 
great  brazen  sea,  which  was  full  of  the  purest  water,  wherein 
even  priests  themselves  might  wash  their  robes.  And  you 
will  remark,  that  to  this  day  the  world  still  lays  its  ills  at  the 
door  of  the  Christians.  Was  it  not  the  foolish  cry,  a  few 
months  ago,  and  are  there  not  some  weak-minded  individuals 
who  still  believe  it,  that  the  great  massacre  and  mutiny  in 
India  were  caused  by  the  missionaries.  Forsooth,  the  men 
who  turned  the  world  upside  down  had  gone  there  also ;  and 
because  men  broke  through  all  the  restraints  of  nature  and  of 
law,  and  committed  deeds  for  which  fiends  might  blush,  this 
must  be  laid  at  the  door  of  Christ's  holy  gospel,  and  the  men 
of  peace  must  bear  on  theii*  shoulders  the  blame  of  war ! 
Ah  !  we  need  not  refute  this  :  the  calumny  is  too  idle  to  need 
a  refutation.  Can  it  be  true,  that  he  whose  gospel  is  love 
should  be  the  fomenter  of  disturbance  ?  Can  it  be  fair,  for  a 
moment,  to  lay  mutiny  and  rebellion  at  the  door  of  the  gospel, 
the  very  motto  of  which  is,  "  Peace  on  earth,  good  wiU  to- 
wards men  ?"  Did  not  our  Master  say,  "  Render  unto  Caesar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are 
God's  ?"  Did  he  not  himself  pay  tribute,  though  he  sent  to 
the  fish  of  the  sea,  to  get  the  shekel  ?  And  have  not  his  fol- 
lowers at  all  times  been  a  peaceful  generation  ? — save  only  and 
except  where  the  liberty  of  their  conscience  was  touched,  and 
then  they  were  not  the  men  to  bow  their  knees  to  tyrants  and 
kings,  but  with  brave  old  Oliver  they  did  bind  their  kings  in 
chains,  and  their  nobles  m  fetters  of  iron,  as  they  will  do 
again,  if  their  liberty  ever  should  be  infringed,  so  that  they 
should  not  have  power  to  worship  God  as  they  ought. 

We  beUeve  that  what  these  Jews  said  of  the  apostles,  was 
just  a  downright,  willful  lie.  They  knew  better.  The  apos- 
tles were  not  the  disturbers  of  states.  It  is  true,  they 
preached  that  which  would  disturb  the  sinful  constitution  of 
a  kingdom,  and  which  would  disturb  the  evil  practices  of 
false  priests ;  but  they  never  meant  to  set  men  m  an  uproar. 
They  did  come  to  set  men  at  arms  with  sin  ;  they  did  draw 
the  sword  aginst  iniquity ;  but  against  men  as  men,  against 
Idngs  as  kings,  they  had  no  battle  •  it  was  with  iniquity  and 


404  THE    WOELD    TURNED    UPSIDE    DOWN. 

sin,  and  wrong  everywhere,  that  they  proclaimed  an  everlast- 
ing warfare.  But  still,  brethren,  there  is  many  a  true  w^ord 
spoken  in  jest,  we  say,  and  surely  there  is  many  a  true  word 
spoken  in  malice.  They  said  the  apostles  turned  the  world 
upside  down.  They  meant  by  that,  that  they  were  disturbers 
of  the  peace.  But  they  said  a  great  true  thing ;  for  Christ's 
gospel  does  turn  the  world  upside  down.  It  was  the  wrong 
w^ay  upwards  before,  and  now  that  the  gospel  is  preached,  and 
when  it  shall  prevail,  it  will  just  set  the  world  right  by  turn- 
ing it  upside  down. 

And  now  I  shall  try  to  show  how,  in  the  world  at  large^ 
Christ's  gospel  turns  the  w^orld  upside  down ;  and  then  I 
shall  endeavor,  as  w^ell  as  God  shall  help  me,  to  show  how  the 
little  world  that  is  within  every  man  is  turned  upside  down, 
when  he  becomes  a  believer  in  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

I.  First,  then,  the  gospel  of  Christ  turns  the  world  upside 

down,  WITH  EEGAED  TO  THE  POSITION  OF  DIFFERENT  CLASSES 
OF  MEN. 

In  the  esteem  of  men,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  something 
like  this.  High  there  on  the  summit,  there  sits  the  most 
grand  rabbi,  the  right  venerable,  estimable  and  excellent 
doctor  of  divinity,  the  great  philosopher,  the  highly  learned, 
the  deeply  instructed,  the  immensely  intellectual  man.  He 
sits  on  the  apex  :  he  is  the  highest,  because  he  is  the  wisest. 
And  just  below  him  there  is  a  class  of  men  who  are  deeply 
studied — not  quite  so  skilled  as  the  former,  but  still  exceeding 
wise — who  look  down  at  those  who  stand  at  the  basement  of 
the  pyramid,  and  who  say  to  them,  "  Ah,  they  are  the  ignoble 
multitude,  they  know  nothing  at  all."  A  little  lower  down, 
we  come  to  the  sober,  respectable,  thinking  men,  not  those 
who  set  up  for  teachers,  but  those  who  seldom  will  be  taught, 
because  they  already  in  their  own  opinion  know  all  that  is  to 
be  learned.  Then  after  them  there  come  a  still  larger  num- 
ber of  very  estimable  folks,  who  are  exceeding  wise  in  worldly 
wisdom,  although  not  quite  so  exalted  as  the  philosopher  and 
the  rabbi.  Lower  still  come  those  who  liave  just  a  respect- 
able amount  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  ;  and  then  at  the  very 
basement  there  come  the  fool,  and  the  little  child,  and  the 


THE    WORLD    TURNED    UPSIDE    DOWN.  405 

babe.  When  we  look  at  these  we  say,  "  This  is  the  wisdom 
of  this  world.  Behold  how  gi-eat  a  difference  there  is  be- 
tween the  babe  at  the  bottom,  and  the  learned  doctor  on  the 
summit!  How  w^ide  the  distinction  between  the  ignorant 
simpleton  who  forms  the  hard,  rocky,  stubborn  basement,  and 
the  wise  man  of  polished  marble,  who  there  stands  resplen- 
dent at  the  apex  of  the  pyramid."  Now,  just  see  how  Christ 
turns  the  world  upside  down.  There  it  stands.  He  just  re- 
verses it.  "Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little 
children,  ye  can  in  no  wdse  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
"  Not  many  great  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty  men 
are  chosen ;  but  God  hath  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world,  rich 
in  faith,  heirs  of  the  kingdom."  It  is  just  turning  the  whole 
social  fabric  upside  down ;  and  the  wise  man  finds  now  that 
he  has  to  go  up  stairs  towards  his  simplicity.  He  has  been  all 
his  life  trying  as  far  as  he  could,  to  get  away  from  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  credulous  child  ;  he  has  been  thinking,  and  judg- 
ing, and  weighing,  and  bringing  his  logic  to  cut  up  every 
truth  he  heard,  and  now  ho  has  to  begin,  and  go  up  again ; 
he  has  to  become  a  little  child,  and  turn  back  to  his  former 
simplicity.  This  is  the  w^orld  turned  upside  down,  with  a 
vengeance  ;  and  therefore  the  wise  seldom  love  it. 

If  you  wish  to  see  the  world  turned  upside  down  to  per- 
fection, just  turn  to  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  Gospel  of  Mat- 
thew :  here  you  have  a  whole  summary  of  the  world  reversed. 
Jesus  Christ  turned  the  world  upside  down  the  first  sermon 
he  preached.  Look  at  the  third  verse.  ^''  JBlessed  are  the 
poor  in  spirit^  for  theirs  is  the  kmgdom  of  heaven.'''*  Now, 
we  like  a  man  who  has  an  ambitious  spirit — a  man  who,  as  we 
say,  knows  how  to  push  his  way  in  the  world — ^who  looks  up 
— is  not  contented  with  the  position  that  he  occupies,  but  is 
always  for  climbing  higher  and  higher.  And  we  have  a  very 
fair  opinion  too  of  a  man,  who  has  a  very  fair  opinion  of  him- 
self— a  man  who  is  not  going  to  bow  and  cringe.  He  will 
have  his  rights,  that  ho  will ;  he  will  not  give  way  to  any- 
body. He  believes  himself  to  be  somewhat,  and  he  will  stand 
on  his  own  belief,  and  will  prove  it  to  the  world  yet.  He  is 
not  one  of  your  poor,  mean-spirited  follows,  who  arc  content 


400  THE    WORLD    TURNED    UPSIDE    DOWN. 

with  poverty,  and  sit  still.  He  will  not  be  contented.  Now 
such  a  man  as  this  the  world  admires.  But  Christ  just  turns 
that  upside  down,  and  says,  "Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit, 
for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  The  men  who  have 
no  strength  of  their  own,  but  look  for  all  to  Christ — the  men 
who  have  no  spirit  to  run  with  a  wicked  world,  but  who 
would  rather  suffer  an  injury  than  resent  one — the  men  who 
are  lowly  and  of  a  humble  carriage,  who  seek  not  to  lift  their 
heads  above  their  fellows ;  who  if  they  be  great  have  great- 
ness thrust  upon  them,  but  never  seek  it — who  are  content 
along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  of  life,  to  keep  the  even 
tenor  of  their  way — who  seem  to  have  always  ringing  in 
their  ears,  "  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself?  Seek  them 
not" — "  the  poor  in  spirit,"  happy  in  their  poverty,  who  are 
content  with  the  Lord's  providence,  and  think  themselves  far 
more  rich  than  they  deserve  to  be.  Xow,  these  men  Christ 
says,  are  blessed.  The  world  says,  they  are  soft,  they  are 
fools ;  but  Christ  puts  those  on  the  top  whom  the  world  puts 
at  the  bottom.  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Then  there  is  another  lot  of  people  in  the  world ;  they  are 
always  mourning.  They  do  not  let  you  see  it  often,  for  their 
Master  has  told  them  when  they  fast,  to  anoint  their  face,  that 
they  appear  not  unto  men  to  fast ;  but  still  secretly  before 
God  they  have  to  groan ;  they  hang  their  harps  upon  the  wil- 
lows ;  they  mourn  for  their  own  sin,  and  then  they  mourn  for 
the  sin  of  the  times.  The  world  says  of  these,  "  They  are  a 
moping,  melancholy  set ;  I  would  not  care  to  belong  to  their 
number ;"  and  the  gay  reveler  comes  iuj  and  he  almost  spits 
upon  them  in  his  scorn.  For  what  are  they?  They  love  the 
darkness.  They  are  the  willows  of  the  stream;  but  this  man, 
like  the  proud  poplar,  lifts  his  head,  and  is  swayed  to  and  fro 
in  the  wind  of  his  joy,  boasting  of  his  greatness,  and  his  free- 
dom. Hear  how  the  gay  youth  talks  to  his  mourning  friend, 
who  is  under  conviction  of  sin.  "  Ah  !  yours  is  a  morbid  dis- 
position ;  I  pity  you ;  you  ought  to  be  under  the  hand  of  a 
physician.  You  go  mourning  through  this  world.  What  a 
miserable  thing,  to  be  plunging  through  waves  of  tribulation  I 


THE  WORLD   TUENED   UPSIDE   DOWN.  407 

What  a  dismal  case  is  yours  !  I  would  not  stand  in  your  shoes 
and  be  in  your  position  for  all  the  world."  No,  but  Christ 
turns  the  world  upside  down ;  and  so  those  people  whom  you 
think  to  be  mournful  and  sorrowful,  are  the  very  ones  who  are 
to  rejoice.  For  read  the  fourth  verse,  "  Blessed  are  they  that 
mourn ;  for  they  shall  be  comforted."  Yes,  worldling,  your 
joy  is  like  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot.  It  blaze th  a 
little,  and  maketh  a  great  noise :  it  is  soon  done  with.  But 
"  light  is  soioi  for  the  righteous,  and  gladness  for  the  upright 
in  heart."  You  can  not  see  the  light  now,  because  it  is  sown. 
It  lies  under  the  clods  of  poverty,  and  shame,  and  persecution, 
mayhap.  But  when  the  great  harvest  day  shall  come,  the 
blades  of  light,  upstarting  at  the  second  coming,  shall  bring 
forth  "the  full  corn  in  the  ear"  of  bHss  and  glory  everlasting. 
O  ye  mourning  souls,  be  glad  ;  for  whereas  the  world  puts  you 
beneath  it,  Christ  puts  you  above  the  world's  head.  When 
he  turns  the  world  upside  down,  he  says  you  shall  be  com- 
forted. 

Then  there  is  another  race  of  people,  called  "  the  meeky 
You  may  have  met  with  them  now  and  then.  Let  me  describe 
the  opposite.  I  know  a  man  who  never  feels  happy  unless  he 
has  a  lawsuit ;  he  would  never  pay  a  bill  unless  he  had  a  writ 
about  it.  He  is  fond  of  law.  The  idea  of  pulling  another  up 
before  the  court  is  a  great  delicacy  to  him.  A  slight  affront 
he  would  not  easily  forget.  He  has  a  very  large  amount  of 
mock  dignity ;  and  if  he  be  never  so  shghtly  touched,  if  a 
harsh  word  be  spoken  against  him,  or  one  slander  uttered,  he 
is  down  upon  his  enemy  at  once ;  for  he  is  a  man  of  hard 
temper,  and  he  casts  the  debtor  into  prison,  and  verily  I  say 
unto  thee,  if  thou  gettest  in  there  by  his  writ,  thou  shalt  never 
come  out  until  thou  hast  paid  the  uttermost  farthing.  Now 
the  meek  are  of  a  very  different  disposition.  You  may  revile 
thcoi,  but  they  will  not  revile  again  ;  you  may  injure  them,  but 
they  know  that  their  Master  lias  said,  "  I  say  unto  thee,  resist 
not  evil."  They  do  not  put  themselves  into  airs  and  passions 
on  a  slight  affront,  for  they  know  that  all  men  are  imperfect, 
and  therefore  they  think  that  perhaps  their  brother  made  a 
mistake,  and  did  not  wish  to  hurt  their  feelings ;  and  therefore 


408  THE  WORLD   TUENED   UPSIDE   DOWN. 

they  say,  "  Well,  if  he  did  not  wish  to  do  it,  then  I  will  not 
be  hurt  by  it ;  I  dare  say  he  meant  well,  and  therefore  I  will 
take  the  will  for  the  deed  ;  and  though  he  spoke  harshly,  yet 
he  will  be  sorry  for  it  to-morrow  ;  I  will  not  mention  it  to 
him — I  will  put  up  with  whatever  he  chooses  to  say."     There 
is  a  slander  uttered  against  him  :  he  says,  "  Well,  let  it  alone  ; 
it  will  die  of  itself;  where  no  wood  is,  the  fire  goeth  out." 
Another  speaketh  exceeding  ill  against  him  in  his  hearing ; 
but  he  just  holds  his  tongue  ;  he  is  dumb  and  openeth  tfot  his 
mouth.     He  is  not  hke  the  sons  of  Zeruiah,  who  said  to  David, 
"  Let  us  go  and  take  off  that  dead  dog's  head,  because  he 
cursed  the  king."     He  says,  "  No,  if  the  Lord  hath  bidden 
him  curse,  let  him  curse."     "  Vengeance  is  mine ;  I  will  repay, 
saith  the  Lord."     He  is  quite  content  to  bear  and  forbear,  and 
put  up  with  a  thousand  injuries,  rather  than  inflict  one ;  meekly 
and  quietly  he  goes  his  way  through  the  world,  and  people 
say,  "  Ah  !  such  a  man  as  that  will  never  get  on ;  he  will 
always  be  taken  in.     Why,  he  will  be  lending  money,  and  will 
never  get  it  back  again  ;  he  will  be  giving  his  substance  to  the 
poor,  and  he  will  never  receive  it.     How  stupid  he  is !     He 
allows  people  to  infringe  on  his  rights  ;  he  has  no  strength  of 
mind ;  he  does  not  know  how  to  stand  up  for  himself,  fool  that 
he  is."     Ay,  but  Christ  turns  it  upside  down,  and  he  says, 
"  Blessed  are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth."     Is 
not  that  provoking  to  you  graspers,  you  high-spirited  people, 
you  lawyers,  you  that  are  always  trying  to  bring  your  neighbor 
into  trouble  touching  your  rights  ?  You  do  it  in  order  that  you 
may  inherit  the  earth :  see  how  Christ  spites  you,  and  treads 
your  wisdom  under  feet.     He  says,  "  The  meek  shall  iyiherit 
the  earth?''     After  all,  very  often,  the  best  way  to  get  our 
rights  is  to  let  them  alone.     I  am  quite  certain  that  the  safest 
way  to  defend  your  character  is  never  to  say  a  word  about  it. 
If  every  person  in  this  place  chooses  to  slander  me,  and  utter 
the  most  furious  libels  that  he  pleases,  he  may  rest  quite  as- 
sured he  will  never  have  a  lawsuit  from  me.     I  am  not  quite 
fool  enough  for  that.     I  have  always  noticed  that  when  a  man 
defends  himself  in  a  court  of  law  against  any  slander,  he  just 
does  his  enemy's  business  with  his  own  hand.     Our  enemies 


THE   AVORLD   IX'RNED    UPSIDE    DOWX.  409 

can  not  hurt  us,  unless  we  luirt  ourselves.  No  man's  character 
was  ever  really  injured  except  by  himself.  Be  you  among  the 
meek,  and  you  shall  inherit  the  earth.  Bear  all  things,  hope 
all  things,  believe  all  things,  and  it  shall  be  the  best,  even  on 
this  earth,  in  the  end. 

Do  you  see  that  very  respectable  gentleman  yonder,  who 
has  never  omitted  to  attend  his  church  or  his  chapel  twice 
every  Sunday  ever  since  he  became  a  man.     He  reads  his 
Bible,  too,  and  he  has  family  prayers.    It  is  true  that  there  are 
certain  stories  flying  about,  that  he  is  rather  hard  upon  his 
laborers,  and  exacting  at  times  in  his  payments  ;  but  does  jus- 
tice to  all  men,  although  no  further  will  he  go.     This  man  is 
on  very  good  terms  with  himself;  when  he  gets  up  in  the 
morning  he  always  shakes  hands  with  hnnself,  and  compli- 
ments himself  on  being  a  very  excellent  person.   He  generally 
lives  in  a  front  street,  in  his  opinion,  and  the  first  number  in 
the  street,  too.     If  you  speak  to  him  about  his  state  before 
God,  he  says,  that  if  he  does  not  go  to  heaven  nobody  will ; 
for  he  pays  twenty  shillings  in  the  pound  to  everybody ;  he  is 
strictly  upright,  and  there  is  no  one  who  can  find  any  fault 
"uith  his  character.    Is  n't  he  a  good  man  ?     Do  n't  you  envy 
him  ? — a  man  who  has  so  excellent  an  opinion  of  himself  that 
he  thinks  himself  perfect ;  or  if  he  is  not  quite  perfect,  yet  he 
is  so  good  that  he  believes  that  with  a  little  help,  he  shall 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.     Well,  now,  do  you  see 
standing  at  the  back  of  the  church  there,  a  poor  woman  with 
tears  running  down  her  eyes  ?     Come  forward,  ma'am ;  let  us 
hear  your  history.     She  is  afraid  to  come  forward  ;  she  dares 
not  speak  in  the  presence  of  respectable  persons ;   but  we 
gather  thus  much  from  her  :  she  has  lately  found  out  that  she 
is  full  of  sin,  and  she  desires  to  know  what  she  must  do  to  be 
saved.     Ask  her.     She  tells  you  she  has  no  merits  of  her  own. 
Her  song  is,  "  I  the  chief  of  sinners  am.    Oh !  that  mercy 
would  save  me !"     She  never  compliments  herself  upon  her 
good  works,  for  she  says  she  has  none ;  all  her  righteousnesses 
are  as  filthy  rags ;  she  puts  her  mouth  in  the  very  dust  when 
she  prays,  and  she  dares  not  lift  so  much  as  her  eyes  towards 
heaven.    You  pity  that  poor  woman.    You  would  not  like  to 

18 


410  THE   WOELD   TUENED   UPSIDE   DOWN. 

be  in  her  case.  The  other  man  whom  I  have  just  mentioned, 
stands  at  the  very  top  of  the  ladder,  does  he  not  ?  But  this 
poor  woman  stands  at  the  bottom.  Now  just  see  the  gospel 
process — the  world  turned  upside  down.  "  Blessed  are  they 
which  do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness :  for  they  shall 
be  filled  ;"  while  the  man  who  is  content  with  himself  has  this 
for  his  portion — "  As  many  as  are  of  the  works  of  the  la^7  are 
under  the  curse ;"  publicans  and  harlots  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  before  you,  because  you  seek  not  the  righteous- 
ness which  is  of  faith,  but  you  seek  it  as  it  were  by  the  works 
of  the  law.  So  here  you  see  again  is  the  world  turned  upside 
down  in  the  first  sermon  Christ  ever  preached. 

Now  turn  to  the  next  beatitude — in  the  seventh  verse — 
"  Blessed  are  the  merciful :  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy."  Of 
this  I  have  already  spoken.  The  merciful  are  not  much  re- 
spected in  this  world — at  least  if  they  are  imprudently  merci- 
ful ;  the  man  who  forgives  too  much,  or  who  is  too  generous, 
is  not  considered  to  be  wise.  But  Christ  declares  that  he  who 
has  been  merciful — merciful  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  poor, 
merciful  to  forgive  his  enemies  and  to  pass  by  ofienses,  shall 
obtain  mercy.     Here,  again,  is  the  world  turned  upside  down. 

"  Blessed  are  the  pxire  in  heart ;  for  they  shall  see  God." 
The  world  says,  "  Blessed  is  the  man  who  indulges  in  a  gay 
life."  If  you  ask  the  common  run  of  mankind  who  is  the 
happy  man,  they  will  tell  you,  "  The  happy  man  is  he  .who  has 
abundance  of  money,  and  spends  it  freely,  and  is  freed  from 
restraint — who  leads  a  merry  dance  of  life,  who  drinks  deep 
of  the  cup  of  intoxication — who  revels  riotously — who,  like 
the  wild  horse  of  the  prairie,  is  not  bitted  by  order,  or  re- 
strained by  reason,  but  who  dashes  across  the  ^vide  plains  of  sin, 
unharnessed,  unguided,  unrestrained."  This  is  the  man  w^hom 
the  world  calls  happy  :  the  proud  man,  the  mighty  man,  the 
Nimrod,  the  man  who  can  do  just  as  he  wishes,  and  who  spurns 
to  keep  the  narrow  way  of  holiness.  Now,  the  Scripture  says, 
Not  so :  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 

"  Blest  is  the  man  who  shuns  the  place 
Where  sinners  love  to  meet ; 
Who  fears  to  tread  their  wicked  ways, 
And  hates  the  scoffer's  seat" — 


TUE   AVOELD   TURNED   UPSIDE   DOWN.  411 

the  man  who  can  not  touch  one  thing  because  that  would  be 
lascivious,  nor  another  because  that  would  spoil  his  communion 
with  his  "blaster;  a  man  who  can  not  frequent  this  place  of 
amusement,  because  he  could  not  pray  there,  and  can  not  go 
to  another,  because  he  could  not  hope  to  have  his  Master's 
sanction  upon  an  hour  so  spent.  That  man,  pure  in  heart,  is 
said  to  be  a  Puritanical  moralist,  a  strict  Sabbatarian,  a  man 
who  has  not  any  mind  of  his  own ;  but  Jesus  Christ  puts  all 
straight,  for  he  says,  these  are  the  blessed  men,  these  are  tli^ 
happy  ones.  *'  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart :  for  they  shall 
see  God." 

And  now  look  at  the  ninth  verse.  "What  a  turning  of  the 
world  upside  down  that  is !  You  walk  through  London,  and 
who  are  the  men  that  we  put  upon  our  columns  and  pillars, 
and  upon  or  park  gates,  and  so  on  ?  Read  the  ninth  verse, 
and  see  how  that  turns  the  world  upside  down.  There  upon 
the  very  top  of  the  world,  high,  high  up,  can  be  seen  the  arm- 
less sleeve  of  a  Nelson  :  there  he  stands,  high  exalted  above 
his  fellows ;  and  there,  in  another  place,  with  a  long  file  up  his 
back,  stands  a  duke ;  and  iu  another  place,  riding  upon  a  war 
horse,  is  a  mighty  man  of  war.  These  are  the  world's  blest 
heroes.  Go  into  the  capital  of  what  empire  you  choose  to 
select,  and  you  shall  see  that  the  blessed  men,  who  are  put 
upon  pedestals,  and  who  have  statues  erected  to  their  memory, 
who  arc  put  into  our  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  and  our  Westminster 
Abbey,  are  not  exactly  the  men  mentioned  in  the  ninth  verse. 
Let  us  read  it :  "  Blessed  are  the  peacemaJcers :  for  they  shall 
be  called  the  children  of  God."  Ah !  but  you  do  not  often 
bless  the  peacemakers,  do  you  ?  The  man  who  comes  between 
two  belligerents,  and  bears  the  stroke  himself — the  man  who 
will  lie  down  on  the  earth,  and  plead  with  others  that  they 
would  cease  from  warfare — these  are  the  blessed.  How  rarely 
are  they  set  on  high.  They  are  generally  set  aside,  as  people 
who  can  not  be  blessed,  even  though  it  seem  that  they  try  to 
make  others  so.  Here  is  the  world  turned  upside  down.  The 
warrior  with  his  garment  stained  in  blood,  is  put  iuto  the 
ignoble  earth,  to  die  and  rot ;  but  the  peacemaker  is  lifted  up, 
and  God's  crown  of  blessing  is  put  around  about  his  head,  and 


412  THE  WORLD   TURNED  UPSIDE   DOWN. 

men  one  day  shall  see  it,  and  struck  with  admiration  they  shall 
lament  their  own  folly,  that  they  exalted  the  blood-red  SAYord 
of  the  warrior,  but  that  they  did  rend  the  modest  mantle  of 
the  man  who  did  make  peace  among  mankind. 

And  to  conclude  our  Saviour's  sermon,  notice  once  more, 
that  we  find  in  this  world  a  race  of  persons  who  have  always 
been  hated — a  class  of  men  who  have  been  hunted  like  the 
wild  goat ;  persecuted,  afflicted,  and  tormented.  As  an  old 
divine  says,  "  The  Christian  has  been  looked  upon  as  if  he  had 
a  wolf's  head,  for  as  the  wolf  was  hunted  for  his  head  every- 
where, so  has  the  Christian  been  hunted  to  the  uttermost  ends 
of  the  earth."  And  in  reading  history  we  are  apt  to  say, 
"  These  persecuted  persons  occupy  the  lowest  room  of  blessed- 
ness ;  these  who  have  been  sawn  asunder,  who  have  been  burned, 
who  have  seen  their  houses  destroyed,  and  have  been  driven  as 
houseless  exiles  into  every  part  of  the  earth — these  men  who 
have  wandered  about  in  sheej)  skins,  and  goat  skins — these 
are  the  very  least  of  mankind."  ISTot  so.  The  gospel  re- 
verses all  this,  and  it  says,  "  Blessed  are  they  who  are  perse- 
cuted for  righteousness*  sake,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  I  repeat  it :  the  whole  of  these  beatitudes  are  just 
in  conflict  with  the  world's  opinion  ;  and  we  may  quote  the 
words  of  the  Jew,  and  say,  "  Jesus  Christ  was  '  the  man  who 
turned  the  world  upside  down.'  " 

And  now  I  find  I  must  be  very  brief,  for  I  have  taken  so 
much  time  in  endeavoring  to  show  how  Christ's  gospel  turned 
the  world  upside  down,  in  the  position  of  its  characters,  that 
I  shall  have  no  space  left  for  any  thing  else.  But  will  you 
have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  briefly  pass  through  the 
other  points  ? 

I  have  next  to  remark,  that  the  Christian  religion  turns  the 
world  upside  down  in  its  maxims.  I  will  just  quote  a  few 
texts  which  show  this  very  clearly.  "  It  was  said  by  them  of 
old  time,  eye  for  eye  and  tooth  for  tooth  ;  but  I  say  unto  you, 
resist  not  evil."  It  has  generally  been  held  by  each  of  us, 
that  we  are  not  to  allow  any  one  to  infringe  upon  our  rights ; 
but  the  Saviour  says,  "  Whosoever  would  sue  thee  at  the  law 
and  take  thy  cloak,  let  him  take  thy  coat  also."     "  If  any  man 


THE  WOELD  TURNED   UPSIDE   DOWN.  413 

Bmite  thee  on  the  one  cheek,  turn  unto  him  the  other  also." 
If  these  precepts  were  kept,  would  it  not  turn  the  world 
upside  down  ?  "  It  has  been  said  by  them  of  old  time,  love 
thy  neighbor  and  hate  thine  enemy ;"  but  Jesus  Christ  said, 
"Let  love  be  unto  all  men."  He  commands  us  to  love  our 
enemies,  and  to  pray  for  them  who  despitefully  use  us.  He 
says,  "  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him,  and  if  he  thirst,  give 
him  drink,  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of  fire  on  his 
head."  This  would  indeed  be  turning  the  world  upside  down  ; 
for  what  would  become  of  our  war  ships  and  our  warriors,  if 
at  the  port-holes  where  now  we  put  our  cannons,  we  should 
have  sent  out  to  some  burning  city  of  our  enemies — for 
instance  to  burning  Sebastopol — if  we  had  sent  to  the  house- 
less inhabitants,  who  had  been  driven  from  their  homes, 
barrels  of  beef,  and  bundles  of  bread  and  clothes,  to  supply 
their  wants.  That  would  have  been  a  reversal  of  all  human 
jjolicy ;  but  yet  it  would  have  been  just  the  carrying  out  of 
Christ's  law,  after  all.  So  shall  it  be  in  the  days  that  are  to 
come,  our  enemies  shall  be  loved  and  our  foemen  shall  be  fed. 
We  are  told,  too,  in  these  times,  that  it  is  good  for  a  man  to 
heap  unto  himself  abundant  wealth,  and  make  himself  rich, 
l)ut  Jesus  Christ  turned  the  world  upside  do^vn,  for  he  said, 
tliere  was  a  certain  rich  man  who  was  clothed  in  scarlet,  and 
larcd  sumptuously  every  day,  and  so  on,  and  his  fields  brought 
forth  abundantly ;  and  he  said,  "  I  will  pull  down  my  barns, 
and  build  greater;"  but  the  Lord  says,  "Thou  fool !"  That  is 
reversing  every  thing  in  this  world.  You  would  have  made 
an  alderman  of  him,  or  a  mayor;  and  fathers  would  have 
patted  their  boys  on  the  head,  and  said,  "  That  is  all  through 
his  frugality  and  taking  care ;  see  how  he  has  got  on  in  the 
world ;  when  he  had  got  a  good  crop,  he  did  not  give  it  away 
to  the  poor,  as  that  extravagant  man  does  who  has  kept  on 
working  all  his  life,  and  never  be  able  to  retire  from  business; 
he  saved  it  all  up;  bo  as  good  a  boy  as  So-and-so,  and  get  on 
too."  But  Christ  said,  "  Thou  fool,  this  night  shall  thy  soul 
be  required  of  thee."  A  turning  of  every  thing  upside  down. 
And  others  of  us  will  have  it,  that  we  ought  to  be  veiy  careful 
every  day,  and  always  looking  forward  to  the  future,  and 


414  THE   WOKLD   TUENED    UPSIDE   DOWN. 

always  fretting  about  what  is  to  be.  Here  is  a  turning  of  the 
world  upside  down,  when  Jesus  Christ  says,  "Remember  the 
ravens :  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into 
barns,  and  yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them  ;  are  ye  not 
better  than  they  ?"  I  do  beheve  that  at  this  day  the  maxims 
of  business  are  clean  opposed  to  the  maxims  of  Christ.  But 
I  shall  be  answered  by  this,  "Business  is  business."  Yes,  I 
know  business  is  business  ;  but  business  has  no  business  to  be 
such  business  as  it  is.  Oh  !  that  it  might  be  altered,  till  every 
man  could  make  his  business  his  religion,  and  make  a  religion 
of  his  business. 

I  have  not  detained  you  long  upon  that  point ;  and  there- 
fore I  am  free  to  mention  a  third.  How  Christ  has  turned  the 
world  upside  down,  as  to  our  religious  7iotions.  Why,  the 
mass  of  mankind  believe,  that  if  any  man  wills  to  be  saved, 
that  is  all  which  is  necessary.  Many  of  our  preachers  do  in 
effect  preach  this  worldly  maxim.  They  tell  men  that  they 
must  make  themselves  willing.  Now,  just  hear  how  the  gospel 
upsets  that.  "It  is  not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that 
runneth,  but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy."  The  world  will 
have  an  universal  religion  too ;  but  how  Christ  overturns  that. 
"  I  pray  for  them ;  I  pray  not  for  the  world."  He  hath  or- 
dained w.^  from  among  men.  "Elect  according  to  the  fore- 
knowledge of  God,  through  sanctification  of  the  Spirit,  and 
belief  of  the  truth."  "  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his." 
How  that  runs  counter  to  all  the  world's  opinion  of  rehgion  ! 
The  world's  religion  is  this — "  Do,  and  thou  shalt  live  ;"  Christ's 
religion  is — "  Believe  and  live."  We  will  have  it,  that  if  a  man 
be  righteous,  sober,  upright,  he  shall  enter  the  kingdom  of 
heaven ;  but  Christ  says — ^This  thou  oughtest  to  have  done ; 
but  still,  not  this  can  ever  cleanse  thee.  "  As  many  as  are 
under  the  works  of  the  law  are  under  the  curse."  "  By  the 
works  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  living  be  justified."  "  Believe 
and  live,"  is  just  the  upsetting  of  every  human  nation.  Cast 
thyself  on  Christ :  trust  in  him.  Have  good  works  afterwards  ; 
but  first  of  all  trust  in  him  that  died  upon  the  tree.  This  is 
the  overturning  of  every  opinion  of  man.  And  hence  mor- 
tals will  always  fight  against  it,  so  long  as  the  human  heart  is 


THE  WORLD  TURNED    UPSIDE   DOWN.  415 

what  it  is.  Oh !  that  we  knew  the  i^ospel !  Oh !  tliat  we 
felt  the  gospel !  For  it  would  be  the  upsetting  of  all  self- 
righteousness,  and  the  casting  down  of  every  high- look,  and 
of  every  proud  thing. 

II.  And  now,  beloved,  spare  me  a  little  time,  while  I  try  to 

show    THAT   AVHAT   IS  TRUE    IN    THE   WORLD,    IS   TRUE    IN   THE 

HEART.  Instead,  however,  of  enlarging  at  full  length  upon 
the  difierent  topics,  I  shall  make  my  last  point  the  subject  of 
examination. 

Man  is  a  little  world,  and  what  God  does  in  the  outer  world, 
he  does  in  the  inner.  If  any  of  you  would  be  saved,  your 
liearts  must  be  turned  upside  down.  I  will  now  appeal  to 
you,  and  ask  you  whether  you  have  ever  felt  this — whether 
you  know  the  meaning  of  it  ? 

In  the  first  place,  yoxxv  judgmeiit  must  be  turned  upside 
down.  Can  not  many  of  you  say,  that  which  you  now  believe 
to  be  the  truth  of  God  is  very  far  opposed  to  your  former 
carnal  notions?  Why,  if  any  one  had  told  you  that  you 
should  be  a  believer  in  the  distinj^uishino:  doctrines  of  free  and 
sovereign  grace,  you  would  have  laughed  him  in  the  face. 
"What!  /believe  the  doctrine  of  election  ?  What!  lever 
hold  the  doctrine  of  particular  redemption,  or  final  persever- 
ance ?  Pshaw  !  nonsense  !  It  can  not  be  !"  But  now  you  do 
hold  it,  and  the  thing  which  you  thought  unreasonable  and 
unjust,  now  seems  to  you  to  be  for  God's  glory,  and  for  man's 
eteraal  benefit.  You  can  kiss  the  doctrine  which  once  you 
despised,  and  you  meekly  receive  it  as  sweeter  than  the  drop- 
pings of  honey  from  the  honeycomb,  though  once  you  thought 
it  to  be  as  the  very  poison  of  asps,  and  gall,  and  wormwood. 
Yes,  when  grace  enters  the  heart,  there  is  a  turning  upside 
down  of  all  our  opinions ;  and  the  great  truth  of  Jesus  sits 
reigning  in  our  soul. 

Is  there  not,  again,  a  total  change  of  all  your  hojyes  ?  Why, 
your  hopes  used  to  be  all  for  this  world.  It  you  could  but  get 
rich,  if  you  could  but  be  great  and  honored,  you  would  be 
happy!  You  looked  forward  to  it.  All  you  were  expecting 
was  a  Paradise  this  side  the  flood.  And  now  where  are  your 
hopes  ? — not  on  earth  ;  for  wliere  your  treasure  is,  there  must 


416  THE   WORLD    TURNED   UPSIDE   DOWN. 

your  heart  be  also.  You  are  looking  for  a  city  that  hands 
have  not  piled  ;  your  desires  are  heavenly,  whereas  they  were 
gross  and  carnal  once.  Can  ye  say  that  ?  Oh !  all  ye  mem- 
bers of  this  congregation,  can  ye  say  that  your  hopes  and  your 
desires  are  changed?  Are  ye  looking  upward,  instead  of 
downward  ?  Are  you  looking  to  serve  God  on  earth,  and  to 
enjoy  him  for  ever  ?  Or  are  you  still  content  with  thinking 
"What  ye  shall  eat,  and.  what  ye  shall  drink,  and  wherewithal 
ye  shall  be  clothed  ?" 

Again,  it  is  a  complete  upsetting  of  all  your  joZeaswres.  You 
loved  the  tavern  once ;  you  hate  it  now.  You  hated  God's 
house  once ;  it  is  now  your  much-loved  habitation.  The  song, 
the  Sunday  newspaper,  the  lewd  novel — all  these  were  sweet 
to  your  taste  ;  but  you  have  burned  the  books  that  once  en- 
chanted you,  and  now  the  dusty  Bible  from  the  back  of  the 
shelf  is  taken  down,  and  there  it  lies,  wide  open,  upon  the 
family  table,  and  it  is  read  both  morn  and  night,  much  loved, 
much  j)rized  and  delighted  in.  The  Sabbath  was  once  the 
dullest  day  of  the  week  to  you ;  you  either  loitered  outside 
the  door  in  your  shirt-sleeves,  if  you  were  poor,  or  if  you  were 
rich  you  spent  the  day  in  your  drawing-room,  and  had  com- 
pany in  the  evening  :  now,  instead  thereof,  your  company  you 
find  in  the  church  of  the  living  God,  and  you  make  the  Lord's 
house  the  drawing-room  where  you  entertain  your  friends. 
Your  feast  is  no  longer  a  banquet  of  wine,  but  a  banquet  of 
communion  with  Christ.  There  are  some  of  you  who  once 
loved  nothing  better  than  the  theater,  the  low  concert  room, 
or  the  casino :  over  such  places  you  now  see  a  great  black 
mark  of  the  curse,  and  you  never  go  there.  Y^ou  seek  now 
the  prayer  meeting,  the  church  meeting,  the  gathering  of  the 
righteous,  the  habitation  of  the  Lord  God  of  hosts. 

It  is  marvelous  how  great  a  change  the  gospel  makes  in  a 
man's  house  too.  Why,  it  turns  his  house  upside  down.  Look 
over  the  mantle-piece — there  is  a  vile  daub  of  a  picture  there, 
or  a  wretched  print,  and  the  subject  is  worse  than  the  style  of 
the  thing.  But  when  the  man  follows  J^sus  he  takes  that 
down,  and  he  gets  a  print  of  John  Bunyan  in  his  prison,  or 
his  wife  standing  before  the  magistrate,  or  a  print  of  the 


THE   WORLD  TURNED   UPSIDE   DOWN.  417 

apostle  Paul  preaching  at  Athens,  or  some  good  old  subject 
representing  something  Biblical.  There  is  a  pack  of  cards  and 
a  cribbage  board  in  the  cupboard  ;  he  turns  them  out,  and  in- 
stead he  puts  there  perhaps  the  monthly  magazine,  or  mayhap 
a  few  works  of  old  divines,  just  here  and  there  one  of  the 
publications  of  the  Religious  Tract  Society,  or  a  volume  of  a 
Commentary.  Every  thing  is  upside  down  there.  The  children 
say,  ''  Father  is  so  altered."  They  never  knew  such  a  thing. 
He  used  to  come  home  sometimes  drunk  of  a  night,  and  the 
children  used  to  run  up  stairs  and  be  in  bed  before  he  came 
in  ;  and  now  little  John  and  little  Sarah  sit  at  the  window  and 
watch  till  he  comes  home ;  and  they  go  toddling  down  the 
street  to  meet  him,  and  he  takes  one  in  his  arms,  and  the  other 
by  the  hand,  and  brings  them  home  with  him.  He  used  to 
teach  them  to  sing  "  Begone,  dull  care,"  or  something  worse ; 
now  he  tells  them  of  "Gentle  Jesus,  meek  and  mild,"  or  puts 
into  their  mouth  some  sweet  song  of  old.  A  jolly  set  of  com- 
panions he  used  to  have  come  to  see  him,  and  a  roaring  party 
there  used  to  be  of  them  on  a  Sunday  afternoon  ;  but  that  is 
all  done  with.  The  mother  smiles  upon  her  husband  :  she  is 
a  happy  woman  now ;  she  knows  that  ho  will  no  longer  disr 
grace  himself  by  plunging  into  the  vilest  of  society,  and  being 
seduced  into  the  worst  of  sins.  Now,  if  you  could  take  a 
man's  heart  out,  and  put  a  new  heart  right  into  him,  it  would 
not  be  half  so  good,  if  it  were  another  natural  heart,  as  the 
change  that  God  works,  when  he  takes  out  the  heart  of  stono 
and  puts  in  a  heart  of  flesh — 

"  A  heart  reaigncd,  submissive,  mock, 

Our  dear  Redeemer's  throne, 
Where  only  Christ  is  heard  to  speak, 
Where  Jesus  reigns  alone." 

I  put,  then,  the  question  to  you  again :  Haye  you  been  turned 
upside  down?  How  about  your  companions?  You  loved 
those  the  best  wlio  could  swear  the  loudest,  talk  the  fastest, 
and  tell  the  greatest  falsehoods  :  now  you  love  those  who  can 
pray  the  most  earnestly,  and  tell  you  the  most  of  Jesus. 

18* 


418  THE    WOULD   TURNED    UPSIDE   DOWN. 

Every  thing  is  changed  with  you.  If  you  were  to  meet  your 
old  self  going  down  the  street,  you  would  not  know  him,  ex- 
cept by  hearsay ;  you  are  no  relation  to  him  at  all.  Some- 
times the  old  gentleman  comes  to  your  house,  and  he  begins 
to  tempt  you  to  go  back ;  but  you  turn  him  out  of  doors  as 
soon  as  you  can,  and  say,  "  Begone.!  I  never  got  on  so  long 
as  I  knew  you ;  1  had  a  ragged  coat  to  my  back  then,  and  I 
was  always  giving  the  publican  all  my  money ;  I  never  went 
to  God's  house,  but  cursed  my  Maker,  and  added  sin  to  sin, 
and  tied  a  mill-stone  round  my  neck.  So  away  from  me  ;  I 
will  have  nothing  to  do  with  you ;  I  have  been  buried  with 
Christ,  and  I  have  risen  with  him.  I  am  a  new  man  in  Christ 
Jesus ;  old  things  have  passed  away,  and  behold  all  things 
have  become  new." 

I  have  some  here,  however,  who  belong  to  a  different  class 
of  society,  who  could  not  indulge  in  any  of  these  things  ;  but 
ah !  ladies  and  gentlemen,  if  you  are  ever  converted,  you 
must  have  as  great  a  sweeping  out  as  the  poorest  man  that 
ever  lived.  There  must  be  as  true  a  turning  upside  down  in 
the  salvation  of  an  earl,  or  a  duke,  or  a  lord,  as  in  the  salvation 
of  a  pauper  or  a  peasant.  There  is  as  much  sin  in  the  higher 
ranks  as  in  the  lower,  and  sometimes  more,  because  they  have 
more  light,  more  knowledge,  more  influence,  and  when  they 
sin,  they  not  only  damn  themselves,  but  others  too.  O  you 
that  are  rich,  have  you  had  a  change  too  ?  Have  the  frivol- 
ities of  this  world  become  sickening  things  to  you  ?  Do  you 
turn  away  with  loathing  from  the  common  cant  and  conven- 
tionahsm  of  high  life  ?  Have  you  forsaken  it  ?  and  can  you 
now  say,  "  Although  I  am  in  the  world,  yet  am  I  not  of  it ; 
its  pomps  and  vanities  I  do  eschew  ;  its  pride  and  its  glory  I 
trample  under  feet ;  these  are  nothing  to  me  ;  I  would  follow 
my  Master  bearing  his  cross,  through  evil  report  and  througli 
good  report  ?"  If  such  be  not  the  ease,  if  you  are  not 
changed,  remember,  there  are  no  exceptions ;  one  truth  is 
true  for  all — "Except  ye  be  born  again,  ye  can  not  see  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  And  that  amounts  in  substance  to 
my  text:  except  ye  be  thoroughly  renewed,  turned  upside 
down,  ye  can  not  be  saved.      "  Believe  on  the  Loi-d  Jesus 


THE   WORLD   TURNED    UPSIDE   DOWX.  419 

Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved ;"  for  he  that  believeth  shall 
be  sanctified  and  renewed — shall  be  saved  at  last — but  he 
that  believeth  not  must  be  cast  away  in  the  great  day  of 
God's  account. 

The  Lord  bless  you  ;  for  Jesus'  sake ! 


SERMON    XXYI. 

HUMAN    RESPONSIBILITY. 

'•  If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  unto  them,  they  had  not  had  sin ;  but  now 
they  have  no  cloke  for  their  sin." — John,  xv.  22. 

The  peculiar  sin  of  the  Jews,  the  sin  which  aggravated 
above  every  thing  their  former  miquities,  was  their  rejection 
of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Messiah.  He  had  been  very  plainly 
described  in  the  books  of  the  prophets,  and  they  who  waited 
for  him,  such  as  Simeon  and  Anna,  no  sooner  beheld  him,  even 
in  his  infant  state,  than  they  rejoiced  to  see  him,  and  under- 
stood that  God  had  sent  forth  his  salvation.  But  because 
Jesus  Christ  did  not  answer  the  expectation  of  that  evil  gen- 
eration, because  he  did  not  come  arrayed  in  pomp  and  clothed 
w^ith  power,  because  he  had  not  the  outward  garnishing  of  a 
prince  and  the  honors  of  a  king,  they  shut  their  eyes  against 
him ;  he  was  "a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground,"  he  was  *'  despised 
and  they  esteemed  him  not."  Nor  did  their  sin  stop  there. 
Not  content  with  denying  his  Messiahship,  they  were  exceed- 
ing hot  against  him  in  their  anger ;  they  hunted  him  all  his 
life,  seeking  his  blood  ;  nor  were  they  content  till  their  fiend- 
ish malice  had  been  fully  glutted  by  sitting  down  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross,  and  watching  the  dying  throes  and  the  expirhig 
agonies  of  their  crucified  Messiah.  Though  over  the  cross 
itself  the  words  w^ere  written,  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King 
of  the  Jews,"  yet  they  knew  not  their  king,  God's  everlasting 
Son;  and  know^ing  him  not,  they  crucified  him,  "for  had 
they  known  him,  they  w^ould  not  have  crucified  the  Lord  of 
glory." 

Now,  the  sin  of  the  Jews  is  every  day  repeated  by  the 
Gentiles ;  that  which  they  did  once,  many  have  done  every 
day.    Are  there  not  many  of  you  now  present  this  day,  listen- 


nUMAN   RISPONSIBILITY.  421 

irig  to  ray  voice,  who  forget  the  Messiah  ?  You  do  not  trouble 
yourself  to  deny  him  ;  you  would  not  degrade  yourselves,  in 
what  is  called  a  Christian  country,  by  standing  up  to  blas- 
pheme his  name.  Perhaps  you  hold  the  right  doctrine  con- 
cerning him,  and  believe  him  to  be  the  Son  of  God  as  well  as  the 
Son  of  Mary  ;  but  still  you  neglect  his  claims,  and  give  him 
no  honor,  and  do  not  accept  him  as  worthy  of  your  trust.  He 
is  not  your  Redeemer ;  you  are  not  looking  for  his  second  ad- 
vent, nor  are  you  expecting  to  be  saved  through  his  blood ; 
nay,  even  worse,  you  are  this  day  crucifying  him ;  for  know 
ye  not,  that  as  many  as  put  away  from  them  the  gospel  of 
Christ,  do  crucify  the  Lord  afresh  and  open  wide  his  wounds? 
As  often  as  ye  hear  the  Word  preached  and  reject  it,  as  often 
as  ye  are  warned,  and  stifle  the  voice  of  your  conscience,  as 
often  as  ye  are  made  to  tremble,  and  yet  say,  "Go  thy  way 
for  this  time,  when  I  have  a  more  convenient  season,  I  will 
send  for  thee,"  so  often  do  you  in  effect  grasp  the  hammer 
and  the  nail,  and  once  more  pierce  the  hand,  and  make  the 
blood  is%ue  from  the  side.  And  there  are  other  ways  by 
which  you  wound  him  through  his  members.  As  often  as  ye 
despise  his  ministers,  or  cast  stumbling-blocks  in  the  Avay  of 
his  servants,  or  impede  his  gospel  by  your  evil  example,  or  by 
your  hard  words  seek  to  pervert  the  seeker  from  the  way 
of  truth,  so  often  do  you  commit  that  great  iniquity  which 
brought  the  curse  upon  the  Jew,  and  which  hath  doomed 
him  to  wander  through  the  earth,  until  the  day  of  the  second 
advent,  when  he  shall  come,  who  shall  even  by  the  Jew  be 
acknowledged  the  King  of  the  Jews,  for  whom  both  Jew  and 
Gentile  are  now  looking  with  anxious  expectation,  even  Mes- 
sias,  the  Prince  who  came  once  to  suffer,  but  who  comes  again 
to  reign. 

And  now  I  shall  endeavor  this  morning  to  show  the  parallel 
between  your  case  and  that  of  the  Jew ;  not  doing  so  in  set 
phrases,  but  yet  incidentally,  as  God  shall  help  me ;  appealing 
to  your  conscience,  and  making  you  feel  that  in  rejecting 
Christ,  you  commit  the  same  sin  and  incur  the  same  doom. 
We  shall  note,  first  of  all,  the  excellence  of  the  mhiistiy^  since 
Christ  comes  in  it,  and  speaks  to  men :  "  If'Z  had  not  spoken 


422  HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY. 

to  them."  We  shall  notice,  secondly,  the  aggravation  of  sin 
caused  by  the  rejection  of  Christ'' s  message:  "If  I  had  not 
spoken  to  them  they  had  not  had  sin."  Thirdly,  the  death 
of  all  excuses,  caused  by  the  preaching  of  the  Word  :  '^  Now 
they  have  no  cloke  for  their  sin."  And  then,  in  the  last  place, 
we  shall  briefly,  but  very  solemnly  announce  the  fearfully  ag- 
gravated doom  of  those  who  thus  reject  the  Saviour,  and  in- 
crease their  guilt  by  despising  him. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  then,  this  morning  it  is  ours  to  say,  and 
to  say  truly  too,  that  in  the  peeaching  of  the  gospel,  there 
IS  TO  man's  conscience  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  speaking  of  the  Saviour  through  us. 
When  Israel  of  old  despised  Moses  and  murmured  against 
him,  Moses  meekly  said,  "  Ye  have  not  murmured  against  us, 
but  ye  have  murmured  against  the  Lord  God  of  Israel."  And 
truly  the  minister  may,  with  Scripture  warrant,  say  the  same : 
he  that  despiseth  us,  despiseth  not  us,  but  him  that  sent  us ;  he 
who  rejecteth  the  message,  rejecteth  not  what  we  say,  but  re- 
jecteth  the  message  of  the  everlasting  God.  The  minister  is 
but  a  man  ;  he  has  no  priestly  power,  but  he  is  a  man  called 
out  of  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  endowed  with  the  Holy 
Spirit,  to  speak  to  his  fellow-men ;  and  when  he  preacheth  the 
truth  as  with  power  sent  down  from  heaven,  God  owns  him 
by  calling  him  his  ambassador,  and  puts  him  in  the  high  and 
responsible  position  of  a  watchman  on  the  walls  of  Zion,  and 
he  bids  all  men  take  heed  that  a  faithful  message,  faithfully 
delivered,  when  despised  and  trampled  on,  amounts  to  rebel- 
lion against  God,  and  to  sin  and  iniquity  against  the  Most 
High.  As  for  what  I  may  say,  as  a  man,  it  is  but  little  that 
I  should  say  it ;  but  if  I  speak  as  the  Lord's  ambassador,  take 
heed  that  ye  slight  not  the  message.  It  is  the  Word  of  God 
sent  down  from  heaven  which  we  preach  with  the  power  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  earnestly  beseeching  you  to  believe  it ;  and 
remember,  it  is  at  the  peril  of  your  own  souls  that  you  put  it 
from  you,  for  it  is  not  we  that  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  our  God  who  speaketh  in  us.  With  what  a  solemnity 
does  this  invest  the  gospel  ministry !  O  ye  sons  of  men,  the 
ministry  is  not  the  speaking  of  men,  but  the  speaking  of  God 


UUMAX   RESPONSIBILITY.  423 

through  men.  As  many  as  are  the  real  called  and  sent  ser- 
vants of  God,  are  not  the  authors  of  their  message  ;  but  they 
first  hear  it  from  the  Master,  and  they  speak  it  to  tlie  people  ; 
and  they  see  ever  before  their  eyes  these  solemn  words — 
"Take  heed  unto  thyself,  and  unto  the  doctrine;  continue  in 
them :  for  in  doing-this  thou  shalt  both  save  thyself  and  them 
that  hear  thee  ;"  and  they  hear  behind  them  this  awful  threat- 
ening— "  If  thou  warn  them  not  they  shall  perish,  but  their 
blood  will  I  require  at  thine  hand."  Oh !  that  ye  might 
see  written  in  letters  of  fire  before  you  this  day  the-v\'ords  of 
the  prophet — •"  O  earth,  earth,  earth,  hear  the  word  of  the 
Lord ;"  for  as  far  as  our  ministry  is  true  and  untainted  by 
error,  it  is  God's  Word,  and  it  hath  the  same  right  and  claim 
to  your  belief  as  if  God  himself  should  speak  it  from  the  top 
of  Sinai,  instead  of  sj^eaking  it  through  the  humble  ministry 
ofthe  Wordof  God. 

And  now  let  us  pause  over  this  doctrine,  and  let  us  ask  our- 
selves this  solemn  question.  Have  we  not  all  of  us  grossly 
sinner  against  God,  in  the  neglect  that  we  have  often  put 
upon  the  means  of  grace  ?  How  often  have  you  stayed  away 
from  the  house  of  God,  when  God  himself  was  speaking  there  ? 
What  would  have  been  the  doom  of  Israel,  if,  when  summon- 
ed on  that  sacred  day  to  hear  the  Word  of  God  from  the  top 
ofthe  mountain,  they  had  perversely  rambled  into  the  wilder- 
ness, rather  than  attend  to  hear  it  ?  And  yet  so  have  you 
done.  You  have  sought  your  own  pleasure,  and  Ustened  to 
the  syren  song  of  temptation;  but  ye  have  shut  your  ear 
against  the  voice  ofthe  Most  High ;  and  when  he  has  himself 
been  speaking  in  his  own  house,  ye  have  turned  aside  into 
crooked  ways,  and  have  not  regarded  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
your  God.  And  when  ye  have  come  up  to  the  house  of  God, 
bow  often  has  there  been  the  careless  eye,  the  inattentive  ear ! 
Ye  have  heard  as  though  ye  heard  not.  Your  ear  has  been 
penetrated,  but  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart  has  been  deaf, 
and  you  have  been  like  the  deaf  adder ;  charm  we  never 
so  wisely,  you  would  not  listen  nor  regard  us.  God  himself 
has  spoken,  too,  at  times  in  your  conscience,  so  that  you  have 
heard  it.     You  have  stood  in  the  aisle,  and  your  knees  have 


424  HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY. 

knocked  together ;  you  have  sat  in  your  pew,  and  while 
some  mighty  Boanerges  has  thundered  out  the  word,  you 
have  heard  it  said,  as  with  an  angel's  voice,  "  Prepare  to 
meet  thy  God — consider  thy  ways — set  thine  house  in  order^ 
for  thou  shalt  die^  and  not  live.''''  And  yet  you  havo  gone 
out  of  God's  house,  and  have  forgotten  what  manner  of  men 
you  Vv-ere.  You  have  quenched  the  Spirit ;  yon  have  done 
despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace  ;  you  have  put  far  from  you  the 
struggles  of  your  conscience  ;  you  have  throttled  those  infant 
prayers  that  were  beginning  to  cry  in  your  heart ;  you  have 
drowned  those  new-born  desires  that  were,  just  springing  up  ; 
you  have  put  away  from  you  every  thing  that  was  good  and 
sacred ;  you  have  turned  again  to  your  own  ways,  and  have 
once  more  wandered  on  the  mountains  of  sin,  and  in  the  val- 
ley of  iniquity.  Ah  !  my  friends,  just  think,  then,  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  in  all  this  you  have  despised  God.  I  am  certain, 
if  the  Holy  Spirit  would  but  apj^ly  this  one  solemn  truth  to 
your  consciences  this  morning,  this  Hall  of  Music  would  be 
turned  into  a  house  of  mourning,  and  tliis  place  would  become 
a  Bochim,  a  place  of  weeping  and  lamentation.  Oh  to  have 
despised  God,  to  have  trampled  under  foot  the  Son  of  man,  to 
have  passed  by  his  cross,  to  have  rejected  the  wooings  of  his 
love  and  the  w^arnings  of  his  grace  !  How  solemn  !  Did  you 
ever  think  of  this  before  ?  You  have  thought  it  was  but  despis- 
ing man ;  will  ye  now  think  of  it  as  despising  Christ  ?  For 
Christ  has  spoken  to  you.  Ah !  God  is  my  witness,  that  often- 
times Christ  hath  wept  with  these  eyes,  and  spoken  to  you  with 
these  lips.  I  have  sought  nothing  but  the  winning  of  your 
souls.  Sometimes  with  rough  words  have  I  endeavored  to 
drive  you  to  the  cross,  and  at  other  times  with  weeping  ac- 
cents have  I  sought  to  weep  you  to  my  Redeemer  ;  and  sure 
I  am,  I  did  not  speak  myself  then,  but  Jesus  spoke  through 
me,  and  inasmuch  as  ye  did  hear  and  weep,  and  then  went 
away  and  did  forget,  remember  that  Christ  spoke  to  you. 
'Twas  he  who  said,  "  Look  unto  me  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the 
ends  of  the  earth  ;"  'twas  he  who  said,  "  Come  unto  me.,  all 
ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden  ;"  'twas  he  who  warned 
you,  that  if  you  neglected  this  great  salvation  you  must  perish  ; 


HUMAN    RESPONSIBILITY.  425 

and  in  having  put  away  the  warning  and  rejected  the  invita- 
tion, you  have  not  despised  us,  but  you  have  despised  our 
Master ;  and  woe  unto  you,  except  ye  repent,  for  'tis  a  fearful 
thing  to  have  despised  the  voice  of  him  that  speaketh  from 
heaven. 

II.  And  now  we  must  notice  the  second  point,  namely,  that 

THE  REJECTION  OF  THE  GOSPEL  AGGRAVATES  MEN'S  SIN.      NoW, 

do  not  let  me  be  misunderstood.  I  have  heard  of  persons 
who,  having  gone  to  the  house  of  God,  have  been  filled  with 
a  sense  of  sin,  and  at  last  they  have  been  driven  almost  to  de- 
spair, for  Satan  has  tempted  them  to  forsake  the  house  of  God ; 
for  says  he,  "  The  more  you  go,  the  more  you  increase  your 
condemnation."  Now  I  believe  that  this  is  an  error ;  we  do 
not  increase  our  condemnation  by  going  to  the  house  of  God  ; 
we  are  far  more  likely  to  increase  it  by  stopping  away ;  for  in 
stopping  away  from  the  house  of  God  there  ns  a  double  rejec- 
tion of  Christ ;  you  reject  him  even  with  the  outward  mind, 
as  well  as  with  the  inward  spirit :  you  neglect  even  the  lying 
at  the  i^ool  of  Bethesda  ;  you  are  worse  than  the  man  who  lay 
at  the  pool,  but  could  not  get  in.  You  will  not  lie  there,  and 
therefore,  neglecting  the  hearing  of  the  AYord  of  God,  you  do 
indeed  incur  a  fearful  doom ;  but  if  you  go  np  to  the  house 
of  God,  sincerely  seeking  a  blessing,  if  you  do  not  get  com- 
fort— if  you  do  not  find  grace  in  the  means,  still,  if  you  go 
there  devoutly  seeking  it,  your  condemnation  is  not  increased 
thereby.  Your  sin  is  not  aggravated  merely  by  the  hearing 
of  the  gospel,  but  by  the  willful  and  wicked  rejection  of  it 
when  it  is  heard.  The  man  who  listens  to  the  sound  of  the 
gospel,  and  after  having  heard  it,  turns  upon  his  heel  with  a 
laugh,  or  who,  after  hearing  time  aftai*  time,  and  being  visibly 
•  affected,  allows  the  cares  and  the  pleasures  of  this  wicked  life, 
to  come  in  and  choke  the  seed — such  a  man  does  in  a  fearful 
measure  increase  his  guilt. 

And  now  we  will  just  notice  why,  in  a  twofold  measure,  he 
does  this.  Because,  in  the  first  place,  he  gets  a  new  sin  alto- 
getlier^  that  lie  never  had  before^  and  beside  that,  he  aggravates 
all  his  other  sins.  Bring  me  here  a  Hottentot,  or  a  man  from 
Kamschatka,  a  wild  savage  who  has  never  listened  to  the 


426  HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY. 

Word.  That  man  may  have  every  sin  in  the  catalogue  of 
guilt  except  one  ;  but  that  one  I  am  sure  he  has  not.  He  has 
not  the  sin  of  rejecting  the  gospel  when  it  is  preached  to  him. 
But  you,  when  you  hear  the  gospel,  have  an  opportunity  of 
committing  a  fresh  sin  ;  and  if  you  have  rejected  it,  you  have 
added  a  fresh  iniquity  to  all  those  others  that  hang  about  your 
neck.  I  have  often  been  rebuked  by  certain  men  w^ho  have 
erred  from  the  truth,  for  preaching  the  doctrine  that  it  is  a 
sin  in  men,  if  they  reject  the  gospel  of  Clirist.  I  care  not  for 
every  opprobrious  title  :  I  am  certain  that  I  have  the  warrant 
of  God's  Word  in  so  preaching,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  any 
man  can  be  faithful  to  men's  souls  and  clear  of  their  blood, 
unless  he  bears  his  frequent  and  solemn  testimony  upon  this 
vital  subject.  "  When  he,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come,  he  will 
reprove  the  world  of  sin,  and  of  righteousness,  and  of  judg- 
ment ;  of  sin,  because  they  believe  not  on  me."  "  And  this  is 
the  condenination,  that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men 
loved  darkness  rather  than  light."  "  He  that  believeth  not 
is  condemned  already,  because  he  hath  not  believed  in  the 
name  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God."  "If  I  had  not  done 
among  them  the  works  which  none  other  man  did,  they  had 
not  had  sin  ;  but  now  have  they  both  seen  and  hated  both  me 
and  my  Father."  "  Woe  unto  thee,  Chorazin  !  woe  unto 
thee,  Bethsaida !  for  if  the  miglity  works  had  been  done  in 
Tyre  and  Sidon,  which  have  been  done  in  you,  they  had  a 
great  while  ago  repented,  sitting  in  sackcloth  and  ashes. 
But  I  say  unto  you,  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  at  the  judgment,  than  for  you."  "  If  I  had  not  come 
and  spoken  unto  them,  they  had  not  had  sin:  but  now  they 
have  no  cloke  for  their  ain."  "  Therefore  we  ought  to  give 
the  more  earnest  heed  to  the  things  which  we  have  heard, 
lest  at  any  time  we  should  let  them  slip.  For  if  the  word 
spoken  by  angels  was  stedfast,  and  every  transgression  and 
disobedience  received  a  just  recompense  of  reward  ;  how  shall 
we  escape  if  we  neglect  so  great  salvation  ?"  "  He  that  de- 
spised Moses'  law  died  without  mercy  under  two  or  three  wit- 
nesses ;  of  how  much  sorer  punishment,  suppose  ye,  shall  he 
be  thought  worthy,  who  hath  trodden  under  foot  the  Son  of 


HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY.  427 

God,  and  hath  counted  the  blood  of  the  covenant,  wherewith 
he  was  sanctified,  an  unholy  thing,  and  hath  done  despite  unto 
the  Spirit  of  grace  ?  For  we  know  him  tbat  hath  said,  venge- 
ance belongeth  unto  me,  I  will  recompense,  saith  the  Lord. 
And  again,  the  Lord  shall  judge  his  people.  It  is  a  fearful 
thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God."  I  have  been 
quoting,  you  see,  some  Scripture  passages,  and  if  they  do  not 
mean  that  unbelief  is  a  sin,  and  the  sin,  which,  above  all 
others,  damns  men's  souls,  they  do  not  mean  any  thing  at  all, 
but  they  are  just  a  dead  letter  in  the  Word  of  God.  Now, 
adultery  and  murder,  and  theft,  and  lying — all  these  are  dam- 
ning and  deadly  sins ;  but  repentance  can  cleanse  all  these, 
through  the  blood  of  Christ.  But  to  reject  Christ,  destroys  a 
man  hoj^elessly.  The  murderer,  the  thief,  the  drunkard,  may 
yet  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  if,  repenting  of  his  sins,  he 
will  lay  hold  on  the  cross  of  Christ ;  but  with  these  sins,  a 
man  is  inevitably  lost,  if  he  believeth  not  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

And  now,  my  hearers,  will  you  consider  for  one  moment 
what  an  awful  sin  this  is,  which  you  add  to  all  your  other  sins. 
Every  thing  lies  in  the  bowels  of  this  sin — the  rejecting  of 
Chiist.  There  is  murder  in  this ;  for  if  the  man  on  the  scaf- 
fold rejects  a  pardon,  does  he  not  murder  himself?  There  is 
pride  in  this  ;  for  you  reject  Christ,  because  your  proud  hearts 
have  turned  you  aside.  There  is  rebellion  in  this ;  for  we  re- 
bel against  God  wlien  we  reject  Christ.  There  is  high  treason 
in  this  ;  for  you  reject  a  king ;  you  put  far  from  you  him  who 
is  crowned  king  of  the  earth,  and  you  incur  therefore  the 
weightiest  of  all  guilt.  Oh !  to  think  that  the  Lord  Jesus 
should  come  from  heaven — to  think  for  a  .moment  that  he 
should  hang  upon  the  tree — that  there  he  should  die  in  agonies 
extreme,  and  that  from  that  cross  ho  should  this  day  look  down 
upon  you,  and  should  say,  "  Come  unto  me,  ye  weary  and  yo 
lieavy  laden  ;"  that  you  should  still  turn  away  from  him — it  is 
the  unkindcst  stab  of  all.  What  more  brutish,  what  more 
devilish,  than  to  turn  away  from  him  who  gave  his  life  for 
you  ?  Oh  tliat  ye  were  wise,  that  yo  understood  this,  that  ye 
would  consider  your  latter  end  I 


428  HUMAN   EESPONSIBILITY. 

But  again,  we  do  not  only  add  a  new  sin  to  the  catalogue 
of  guilt,  but  we  aggravate  all  the  rest.  You  can  not  sin  so 
cheap  as  other  peojDle,  you,  who  have  had  the  gospel.  When 
the  unenlightened  and  ignorant  sin,  their  conscience  does  not 
prick  them ;  and  there  is  not  that  guilt  in  the  sin  of  the  ignor- 
ant, that  there  is  in  the  sin  of  the  enlightened.  Did  you  steal 
before  ?  that  was  bad  enough  ;  but  hear  the  gospel  and  con- 
tinue a  thief,  and  you  are  a  thief  indeed.  Did  you  lie  before 
you  heard  the  gospel  ?  The  liar  shall  have  his  portion  in  the 
lake ;  but  lie  after  hearing  it ;  and  it  seems  as  if  the  fire  of 
Tophet  should  be  fanned  up  to  a  sevenfold  fury.  He  who  sins 
ignorantly,  hath  some  little  excuse ;  but  he  w^ho  sins  against 
light  and  knowledge,  sins  presumptuously ;  and  under  the  law 
there  was  no  atonement  for  this,  for  presumptuous  sins  were 
out  of  the  pale  of  legal  atonement,  although,  blessed  be  God, 
Christ  hath  atoned  for  even  these,  and  he  that  believeth  shall 
be  saved,  despite  even  his  guilt.  Oh !  I  beseech  you,  recol- 
lect that  the  sin  of  unbelief  blackens  every  other  sin.  It  is 
like  Jeroboam.  It  is  said  of  him,  he  sinned  and  made  Israel 
to  sin.  So  unbelief  sins  itself  and  leads  to  every  other  sin. 
Unbelief  is  the  file  by  which  you  sharpen  the  ax,  and  the 
coulter,  and  the  sword,  which  you  use  in  rebellion  against  the 
Most  High.  Your  sins  become  more  exceeding  sinful,  the  more 
you  disbelieve  in  Christ,  the  more  you  know  of  him,  and  the 
longer  you  reject  him.  This  is  God's  truth  ;  but  a  truth  that 
is  to  be  spoken  with  reluctance,  and  with  many  groanings  in 
our  spints.  Oh  to  have  such  a  message  to  deliver  to  you,  to  you 
I  say,  for  if  there  be  a  people  under  heaven  to  whom  my  text 
applies,  it  is  you.  If  there  is  one  race  of  men  in  the  world, 
who  have  more  to  account  for  than  others,  it  is  yourselves. 
There  are  doubtless  others,  who  are  on  an  equality  with  you, 
who  sit  under  a  faithful  and  earnest  ministry;  but  as  God 
shall  judge  betwixt  you  and  me  at  the  great  day,  to  the  ut- 
most of  my  power  I  have  been  faithful  to  your  souls.  I  have 
never  in  this  pulpit  sought  by  hard  words,  by  technical  lan- 
guage, to  magnify  my  own  wisdom.  I  have  spoken  to  you 
plainly ;  and  not  a  word,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  has  es- 
caped these  lips,  which  every  one  of  you  could  not  understand. 


HUMAIN^   RESPONSIBILITY.  429 

You  have  had  a  simple  gospel.  I  have  not  stood  here  and 
preached  coldly  to  you.  I  could  say  as  I  came  up  yon  stnu-s, 
"  The  burden  of  the  Lord  was  upon  me ;"  for  my  heart  has 
come  here  heavy,  and  my  soul  has  been  hot  within  me,  and 
when  I  have  preached  feebly,  my  words  may  have  been  un- 
couth,  and  the  language  far  from  proper,  but  heart  never  has 
been  wanting.  This  whole  soul  has  spoken  to  you ;  and  if  I 
could  have  ransacked  heaven  and  earth  to  find  language  that 
might  have  won  you  to  the  Saviour,  I  would  have  done  so.  I 
have  not  shunned  to  reprove  you  ;  I  have  never  minced  mat- 
ters. 1  have  spoken  to  this  age  of  its  iniquities,  and  to  you 
of  your  sins.  I  have  not  softened  down  the  Bible  to  suit  the 
carnal  tastes  of  men.  I  have  said  damn^  where  God  said 
damn — I  have  not  sweetened  it  into  "  condemn."  I  have  not 
minced  matters,  nor  endeavored  to  vail,  or  conceal  the  truth, 
but  as  to  every  man's  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God,  have  I 
endeavored  to  commend  the  gospel,  earnestly,  with  power,  and 
with  a  plain,  outspoken,  earnest  and  honest  ministry.  I  have 
not  kept  back  the  glorious  doctrines  of  grace,  although  by 
preaching  them  the  enemies  of  the  cross  have  called  me  an 
Antinomian ;  nor  have  I  been  afraid  to  preach  man's  solemn 
responsibihty,  although  another  tribe  have  slandered  me  as  an 
Armmian.  And  in  saying  this,  I  say  it  not  in  a  way  of  glo- 
rying, but  I  say  it  for  your  rebuke,  if  you  have  rejected  the 
gospel,  for  you  shall  have  sinned  far  above  any  other  men ;  in 
casting  away  Christ,  a  double  measure  of  the  fury  of  the  wrath 
of  God  sLall  fall  on  you.  Sin,  then,  is  aggravated  by  the  re- 
jection of  Christ. 
III.  And  now,  in  the  third  place,  the  preaching  of  the 

GOSPEL  OP  CHRIST  TAKES  AWAY  ALL  EXCUSE  FROM   THOSE  WHO 

HK-VB  IT  AND  REJECT  IT.  "  Now  havo  they  no  cloke  for  their 
sin."  A  cloak  is  a  very  poor  covering  for  sin,  when  there  is 
an  all-seeing  eye  to  look  through  it.  In  the  great  day  of  the 
tempest  of  God's  wrath  a  cloak  will  be  a  very  poor  slielter ; 
but  still  man  is  always  fond  of  a  cloak.  In  the  day  of  cold 
and  rain  we  see  men  gathering  their  cloaks  about  them,* 
if  they  have  no  shelter  and  no  refuge,  still  they  feel  a  little 
comforted  by  their  garment.    And  so  it  is  with  you  ;  you  will 


430  HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY. 

gather  together,  if  you  can,  an  excuse  for  your  sin,  and  when 
conscience  pricks  you,  you  seek  to  heal  the  wound  with  an  ex- 
cuse. And  even  in  the  day  of  judgment,  although  a  cloak  will 
be  a  sorry  covering,  yet  it  will  be  better  than  nothing  at  all. 
"  But  now  ye  have  no  cloke  for  your  sins."  The  traveler  is 
left  in  the  rain  without  his  covering,  exposed  to  the  tempest 
without  that  garment  which  once  did  shelter  him.  "  Now  ye 
have  no  cloke  for  your  sins" — discovered,  detected,  unmasked, 
ye  are  left  inexcusable,  without  a  cloak  for  your  iniquity.  And 
now  let  me  just  notice  how  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  when 
it  is  faithfully  performed,  takes  away  all  cloaks  for  sin. 

In  the  first  place,  one  man  might  get  up  and  say,  "  I  did  not 
know  I  was  doing  wrong  when  I  committed  such  and  such  an 
iniquity."  Now,  that  you  can  not  say.  God  has  by  his  law 
told  you  solemnly  what  is  wrong.  There  stand  the  ten  com- 
mandments ;  and  there  stands  the  comment  of  our  Master 
where  he  has  enlarged  upon  the  commandment,  and  told  us 
that  the  old  law,  "  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery,"  forbad 
also  all  sins  of  the  lascivious  look  and  the  evil  eye.  If  the 
Sepoy  commits  iniquity,  there  is  a  cloak  for  it.  I  doubt  not 
that  his  conscience  tells  him  that  he  does  wrong,  but  his  sacred 
books  teach  him  that  he  is  doing  right,  and  therefore  he  has 
that  cloak.  If  the  Mohammedan  commits  lust,  I  doubt  not 
that  his  conscience  doth  prick  him,  but  his  sacred  books  give 
him  liberty.  But  you  profess  to  believe  your  Bibles,  and  have 
them  in  your  houses,  and  have  the  preachers  of  them  in  all 
your  streets ;  and  therefore  when  you  sin,  you  sin  with  the 
proclamation  of  the  law  upon  the  very  wall  before  your  eyes 
— you  do  willfully  violate  a  well-known  law  which  has  come 
from  heaven,  and  come  to  you. 

Again,  you  might  say,  "  When  I  sinned,  I  did  not  know 
how  great  would  be  the  punishment."  Of  this  also,  by  the 
gospel,  you  are  left  without  excuse  ;  for  did  not  Jesus  Christ 
tell  yon,  and  does  he  not  tell  you  every  day,  that  those  who 
will  not  have  him  shall  be  cast  into  outer  darkness,  where  shall 
be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth  ?  Hath  he  not  said,  "These 
shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the  righteous 
into  life  eternal  ?"     Does  he  not  himself  declare  that  the  wick- 


HUM.VN   RESPONSIBILITY.  431 

ed  shall  be  burned  up  with  unquenchable  fire  ?  Has  ho  not 
told  you  of  a  place  where  their  worm  dieth  not,  and  where 
their  fire  is  not  quenched  ?  And  the  ministers  of  the  gospel 
have  not  shunned  to  tell  you  this  too.  You  have  sinned, 
though  you  knew  you  would  be  lost  by  it.  You  have  taken 
the  poisonous  draught,  not  thmking  that  it  was  harmless :  you 
knew  that  every  drop  in  the  cup  was  scalding  with  damnation, 
and  yet  you  have  taken  the  cup  and  drained  it  to  its  very 
dregs.  You  have  destroyed  your  own  souls  with  your  eyes 
open ;  you  have  gone  like  a  fool  to  the  stocks,  like  an  ox  to 
the  slaughter,  and  like  a  lamb  you  have  licked  the  knife  of  the 
butcher.     In  this,  then,  you  are  left  without  excuse. 

But  some  of  you  may  say,  "  Ah,  I  heard  the  gospel,  it  is 
true,  and  I  knew  that  I  was  doing  wrong,  but  I  did  not  know 
what  I  must  do  to  be  saved."  Is  there  one  among  you  who 
can  urge  such  an  excuse  as  this  ?  Methinks  you  will  not  have 
the  impudence  to  do  so.  "  Believe  and  live,"  is  preached 
every  day  in  your  hearing.  Many  of  you  these  ten,  twenty, 
tliirty,  forty,  or  fifty  years,  have  been  hearing  the  gospel,  and 
you  dare  not  say,  *'  I  did  not  know  what  the  gospel  was." 
From  your  earliest  childhood  many  of  you  have  listened  to  it. 
The  name  of  Jesus  was  mingled  with  the  hush  of  lullaby. 
You  drank  in  a  holy  gospel  with  your  mother's  milk,  and  yet 
despite  all  that,  you  have  never  sought  Christ.  "  Knowledge 
is  power,"  men  say.  Alas!  knowledge  when  not  used,  is  wrath^ 
•WRATH,  WRATH  to  the  uttermost,  against  the  man  who 
knows,  and  yet  doth  that  which  he  knoweth  to  be  not  right. 

Methinks  I  can  hear  another  say,  "  Well,  I  heard  the  gos- 
pel preached,  but  I  never  had  a  good  example  set  me."  Some 
of  you  may  say  that,  and  it  would  be  partially  true  ;  but  there 
are  others  of  you,  concerning  whom  I  may  say  that  this  would 
be  a  lying  excuse.  Ah !  man  ;  you  have  been  very  fond  of 
speaking  of  the  inconsistencies  of  Christians.  You  have  said, 
"  They  do  not  live  as  they  ought ;"  and  alas,  there  is  too 
much  truth  in  what  you  have  said.  But  there  was  one  Chris- 
tian Mhom  you  knew,  and  whose  character  you  were  com- 
pelled to  admire ;  do  not  you  remember  her  ?  It  Avas  the 
mother  who  brought  you  forth.    That  has  always  been  the 


432  HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY. 

one  difficulty  with  you  up  to  this  day.     You  could  have  re- 
jected the  gospel  very  easily,  but  your  mother's  example  stood 
before  you,  and  you  could  not  overcome  that.     Do  you  not 
remember  amongst  the  first  early  dawnings  of  your  recollec- 
tion, how  you  opened  your  little  eyes  in  the  morning,  and  you 
saw  a  mother's  loving  face  looking  down  upon  you,  and  you 
caught  her  wath  a  tear  in  her  eye,  and  you  heard  her  say, 
"  God  bless  the  child,  may  he  call  the  Redeemer  blessed !" 
You  remember  how  your  father  did  often  chide  you  ;  she  did 
seldom  chide,  but  she  often  spoke  in  tones  of  love.     Recollect 
that  little  upper  room,  where  she  took  you  aside,  and  putting 
her  arms  around  your  neck,  dedicated  you  to  God,  and  prayed 
that  the  Lord  would  save  you  in  your  childhood.     Remember 
the  letter  she  gave  you,  and  your  book  in  which  she  wrote 
your  name  when  you  left  the  parental  roof  to  go  abroad,  and 
the  sorrow  with  which  she  wrote  to  you  when  she  heard  you 
had  begun  to  plunge  in  gayety  and  mix  with  the  ungodly ; 
recollect  that  sorrowful  look  with  which  she  did  wring  your 
hand  the  last  time  you  left  her.     Remember  how  she  said  to 
you,  "  You  will  bring  my  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave,  if 
you  walk  in  the  ways  of  iniquity."     Well,  you  knew  that  what 
she  said  was  not  cant ;  there  was  reality  in  that.     You  could 
laugh  at  the  minister,  you  could  say  it  was  his  biismess,  but  at 
her  you  could  not  scoff;   she  was  a  Christian,  there  was  no 
mistake  about  it.    How  often  did  she  put  up  with  your  angry 
temper,  and  bear  with  your  rough  manners,  for  she  was  a 
sweet  spirit,  almost  too  good  for  earth — and  you  recollect  that. 
You  were  not  there  when  she  was  dying,  you  could  not  ar- 
rive in  time;  but  she  said  to  her  friend  as  she  was  dying, 
"There  is  only  one  thing  that  I  want,  then  I  could  die  happy — 
oh,  that  I  could  see  my  children  walking  in  the  truth."     Now, 
I  apprehend  such  an  example  leaves  you  without  a  cloak  for 
your  wickedness,  and  if  you  commit  iniquity  after  that,  how 
fearful  must  be  the  weight  of  your  woe. 

But  others  of  you  can  say  that  you  had  no  such  mother ; 
your  first  school  was  the  street,  and  the  first  example  you  ever 
had  was  that  of  a  swearing  father.  Recollect,  my  friend,  there 
is  one  perfect  example — Christ ;  and  that  you  have  read  of, 


HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY.  433 

though  you  have  not  seen  liim.  Jesus  Christ,  the  man  of  Naz- 
areth, was  a  perfect  man  ;  in  him  was  there  no  sin,  neither  was 
there  guile  in  his  mouth.  And  if  you  have  never  seen  any 
thing  like  Christian  worth  anywhere  else,  yet  you  can  see  it 
in  Christ ;  and  in  ventuiing  such  an  excuse  as  this,  remember 
you  have  ventured  upon  a  lie,  for  the  example  of  Christ,  the 
works  of  Christ,  as  well  as  the  words  of  Christ,  leave  you  with- 
out excuse  lor  your  sin. 

Ah,  and  I  think  I  hear  one  more  excuse  offered,  and  that  is 
this :  "  Well,  I  certainly  had  many  advantages,  but  they  were 
never  sent  home  to  my  conscience  so  that  I  felt  them."  Now, 
there  are  very  few  of  you  here  that  can  say  that.  Some  of 
you  will  say,  "  Yes,  I  heard  the  minister,  but  he  never  made 
an  impression  upon  me."  Ah,  young  men  and  young  women, 
and  all  of  "you  this  morning,  I  must  be  a  witness  against  you, 
in  the  day  of  judgment,  that  this  is  untrue.  For,  but  now, 
your  consciences  were  touched  ;  did  I  not  see  some  soft  tears 
of  repentance — I  trust  they  were  such — flowing  but  just  now. 
Xo,  you  have  not  always  been  unmoved  by  the  gospel ;  you 
have  grown  old  now,  and  it  takes  a  deal  to  stir  you,  but  it  was 
not  always  so.  There  was  a  time  in  your  youth,  when  you 
were  very  susceptible  of  impression.  Remember,  the  sins  of 
your  youth  will  cause  your  bones  to  rot,  if  you  have  still  per- 
severed in  rejecting  the  gospel.  Your  old  heart  has  grown 
hard,  still  you  are  without  excuse  ;  you  did  feel  once,  ay,  and 
even  now  you  can  not  help  feeling.  I  know  there  are  some 
of  you  that  can  scarcely  keep  your  seats  at  the  thought  of 
your  iniquities ;  and  you  have  almost  vowed,  some  of  you, 
that  this  day  you  will  seek  God,  and  the  first  thing  you  will 
do,  will  be  to  climb  to  your  chamber,  and  shut  the  door,  and 
seek  the  Lord.  Ah,  but  I  remember  a  story  of  one,  who  re- 
marked to  a  minister,  what  a  wonderful  thing  it  was  to  see  so 
many  people  weeping.  "  Nay,"  said  he,  "  I. will  tell  you  some- 
thing more  wonderful  still,  that  so  many  will  forget  all  they 
wept  about  when  they  get  outside  the  door."  And  you  will 
do  this.  Still,  when  you  have  done  it,  you  will  recollect  that 
you  have  not  been  without  the  strivings  of  God's  Spirit.  You 
will  remember  that  God  has,  this  moniing,  as  it  were,  put  a 

19 


434  HUMAN   KESPONSIBILITT. 

hurdle  across  your  road,  digged  a  ditch  in*  your  way,  and  put 
up  a  hand-post,  and  said,  "Take  warning!  beware,  beware, 
beware  !  you  are  rushing  madly  into  the  ways  of  iniquity  !" 
And  I  have  come  before  you  this  morning,  and  in  God's  name 
I  have  said,  "  StojD,  stop,  stop,  thus  saith  the  Lord,  '  consider 
your  ways,  why  will  ye  die  ?  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  why  will  ye 
die,  O  house  of  Israel  ?'  "  And  now,  if  ye  will  put  this  from 
you,  it  must  be  even  so  ;  if  you  will  put  out  these  sparks,  if 
ye  will  quench  this  first  burning  torch,  it  must  be  so.  On  your 
own  head  be  your  blood  ;  at  your  own  door  lay  your  iniquities. 
IV.  But  now  I  have  one  thing  more  to  do.  And  it  is  aw- 
ful work ;  for  I  have,  as  it  were,  to  put  on  the  black  cap 

AND  PRONOUNCE  THE  SENTENCE  OF  CONDEMNATION.     For  thoSC 

who  live  and  die  rejecting  Christ  there  is  a  most  fearful  doom. 
They  shall  perish  with  an  utter  destruction.  There  are  de- 
grees of  punishment ;  but  the  highest  degree  is  given  to  the 
man  who  rejects  Christ.  You  have  noticed  that  passage,  I 
dare  say,  that  the  liar  and  the  whoremonger,  and  drunkards 
shall  have  their  portion — who  do  you  suppose  with  ? — with 
unbelievers  ;  as  if  hell  was  made  first  of  all  for  unbelievers — 
as  if  the  pit  was  digged  not  for  whoremongers,  and  swearers, 
and  drunkards,  but  for  men  who  despise  Christ,  because  that 
is  the  A  1  sin,  the  cardinal  vice,  and  men  are  condemned  for 
that.  Other  iniquities  come  following  after  them,  but  this  one 
goes  before  them  to  judgment.  Imagine  for  a  moment  that 
time  has  passed,  and  that  the  day  of  judgment  is  come.  We 
are  all  gathered  together,  both  quick  and  dead.  The  trumpet 
blast  waxes  exceeding  loud  and  long.  We  are  all  attentive, 
expecting  something  marvelous.  The  exchange  stands  still 
m  its  business ;  the  shop  is  deserted  by  the  tradesman  ;  the 
crowded  streets  are  filled.  All  men  stand  still ;  they  feel  that 
the  last  great  business  day  is  come,  and  that  now  they  must 
settle  their  accounts  for  ever.  A  solemn  stillness  fills  the  air  : 
no  sound  is  heai-d.  All,  all  is  noiseless.  Presently  a  great 
white  cloud  with  solemn  state  sails  through  the  sky,  and  then 
— hark !  the  twofold  clamor  of  the  startled  earth.  On  that 
cloud  there  sits  one  like  unto  the  Son  of  man.  Every  eye 
looks,  and  at  last  there  is  heard  a  unanimous  shout — "  It  is 


HUMAN    RESPONSIBILITY.  435 

he !  it  is  be  !"  and  after  that  you  hear  on  the  one  hand,  shouts 
of  "  Hallehijah,  liallelujah,  hallelujah,"  "  Welcome,  welcome, 
welcome  Son  of  God."  But  mixed  with  that  there  is  a  deep 
bass,  composed  of  the  weeping  and  the  w^ailing  of  the  men  who 
have  persecuted  him,  and  w^ho  have  rejected  him.  Listen  !  I 
think  I  can  dissect  the  sonnet ;  I  think  I  can  hear  the  words 
as  they  come  separately,  each  one  of  them,  tolling  like  a  death 
knell.  What  say  they  ?  They  say,  "Rocks  hide  us,  moun- 
tains fall  upon  us,  hide  us  from  the  face  of  him  that  sits  upon 
the  throne."  And  shall  you  be  among  the  number  of  those 
who  say  to  the  rocks,  "  Hide  us  ?" 

My  impenitent  hearer,  I  suppose  for  a  moment  that  you 
liave  gone  out  of  this  world,  and  that  you  have  died  impeni- 
tent, and  that  you  are  among  those  who  are  weeping,  and  w^ail- 
ing,  and  gnashing  their  teeth.  Oh  !  what  will  then  be  your 
terror !  Blanched  cheeks,  and  knocking  knees  are  nothing, 
compared  to  thy  horror  of  heart  when  thou  shalt  be  drunken, 
but  not  with  wine,  and  when  thou  shalt  reel  to  and  fro  with 
the  intoxication  of  amazement,  and  shall  fall  down,  and  roll  in 
the  dust  for  horror  and  dismay.  For  there  he  comes,  and 
there  he  is,  with  fierce,  fire-darting  eye  ;  and  now  the  time  is 
come  for  the  great  division.  The  voice  is  heard,  "  Gather 
my  people  from  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  mine  elect  in  whom 
my  soul  delighteth."  They  are  gathered  at  the  right  hand, 
and  there  they  are.  And  now  saith  he,  "  Gather  up  the  tares, 
and  bind  them  in  bundles  to  burn."  And  you  are  gathered, 
and  on  the  lefl  hand  there  you  are,  gathered  into  the  bundle. 
All  that  is  wanted  is  the  lighting  of  the  pile.  Where  shall  bo 
the  torch  that  shall  kindle  them  ?  The  tares  are  to  be  burned  ; 
where  is  the  flame  ?  The  flame  comes  out  of  his  mouth,  and 
it  is  composed  of  w^ords  like  these — "Depart,  ye  cursed,  into 
everlasting  fire,  in  hell,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels." 

Do  you  linger  ?  "  Depart  /"  Do  you  seek  a  blessing  ? 
"  Ye  are  cursedy  I  curse  you  with  a  curse.  Do  ye  seek  to 
escape  ?  It  is  everlasting  fire.  Do  ye  stop  and  plead  ?  No, 
^'' I  called^  and  ye  refused ,'  I  stretched  out  my  hands  ^  and  ye 
regarded  me  not ;  tfierefore  I  icill  mock  at  your  calamity^  I 
vyill  laugh  when  your  fear  comethy     '•'•Depart^  again,  I  say  ; 


436  HUMAN   RESPONSIBILITY. 

depart  for  ever  !•'  And  you  are  gone.  And  what  is  your  re- 
flection ?  Why,  it  is  this  :  "  Oh  !  would  to  God  that  I  never 
had  been  born  !  Oh !  that  I  had  never  heard  the  gospel 
preached,  that  I  might  never  have  had  the  sin  of  rejecting  it !" 
This  will  be  the  gnawing  of  the  worm  in  your  conscience — 
"I  knew  better,  but  I  did  not  do  better." — "As  I  sowed 
the  wind,  it  is  right  I  should  reap  the  whirlwind  ;  I  was 
checked,  but  I  would  not  be  stopped  ;  I  was  wooed,  but  I 
would  not  be  invited.  Now  I  see  that  I  have  murdered  my- 
self. Oh !  thought  above  all  thoughts  most  deadly.  I  am 
lost,  lost,  lost !  And  this  is  the  horror  of  horrors :  I  have 
caused  myself  to  be  lost ;  I  have  put  from  me  the  gospel  of 
Christ ;  I  have  destroyed  myself." 

Shall  this  be  so  with  thee,  my  hearer  ?  Shall  this  be  so  with 
thee?  I  pray  it  may  not !  O  may  the  Uply  Spirit  now  con- 
strain thee  to  come  to  Jesus,  for  I  know  that  thou  art  too  vile 
to  yield,  unless  he  compels  thee.  But  I  hope  for  thee.  Me- 
thinks  I  hear  thee  say,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  Let 
me  tell  you  the  way  of  salvation,  and  then  farewell.  If  thou 
wouldest  be  saved,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved  ;"  for  the  Scriptui-e  says,  "  He  that  be- 
lieveth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved  ;  he  that  believeth  not 
shall  be  damned."  There  he  hangs,  dyuig  on  his  cross !  look 
to  him  and  live. 

"  Venture  on  him,  venture  wholly, 
Let  no  other  trust  intrude ; 

None  but  Jesus 
Can  do  helpless  sinners  good." 

Be  you  wicked,  filthy,  depraved,  degraded,  you  are  still 
invited  to  Christ.  The  devil's  castaways  Christ  takes  in — the 
offscouring,  the  dross,  the  scum,  the  draff",  tlie  sewerage  of 
this  world,  is  now  invited  to  Christ.  Come  to  him  now,  and 
obtain  mercy.     But  if  ye  harden  your  hearts, 

"  The  Lord  in  anger  dressed, 
Shall  lift  his  hand  and  swear, 
*  You  that  despised  my  promised  rest, 
Shall  have  no  portion  there." " 


SERMON  XXVII. 
FAITH    IN   PERFECTION. 

♦'  The  Lord  will  perfect  tliat  which  concemeth  me.  Thy  mercy,  0  Lord, 
e»dm-eth  for  ever :  forsake  not  the  works  of  thine  own  hands." — Ps^iLil 
exxxviiu  8. 

In  the  opening,  I  must  remark  that  this  is  not  the  heritage 
of  all  mankind.  The  word,  "me,"  in  the  text,  can  not  be 
appropriated  by  any  man,  unless  lie,  in  some  respects,  re- 
sembles the  character  of  David,  who  penned  this  Psalm.  The 
text,  however,  itself,  is  its  own  guard.  If  you  look  at  it,  you 
will  see  that  there  is  in  its  bowels  a  full  description  of  a  true 
Christian.  I  will  ask  you  three  questions  suggested  by  the 
words  themselves,  and  according  to  your  answer  to  these 
three  questions,  shall  be  my  reply,  yes  or  no,  as  to  whether 
this  promise  belongs  to  you. 

To  begin,  let  us  read  the  first  sentence — "  The  Lord  will 
perfect  that  which  concerncth  me."  Now,  have  you  a  con- 
cern in  and  a  concern  about  heavenly  things  ?  Have  you  ever 
felt  that  eteiTiity  concerns  you  more  than  time ;  that  the  man- 
sions of  heaven  are  more  worthy  your  consideration  than  the 
dwelling-places  of  earth  ?  Have  you  felt  that  you  ought  to 
have  a  greater  concern  about  your  immortal  soul  than  about 
your  perishing  body  ?  Remember,  if  you  are»living  the  life 
of  a  butterfly,  the  life  of  the  present,  a  sportive  and  flowery 
life,  without  making  any  preparation  or  taking  any  thought 
for  a  future  world,  this  promise  is  not  yours.  If  the  things  of 
God  do  not  concern  you,  then  God  will  not  perfect  them  for 
you.  You  must  have  in  your  own  soul  a  concern  about  these 
things,  and  afterwards  you  must  have  a  belief  in  your  heart 
that  you  have  an  interest  in  heavenly  things,  or  otherwise  it 
would  be  a  perversion  of  holy  Scripture  for  you  to  appropriate 


438  FAITH    IN    PERFECIIOX. 

these  precious  things  to  yourselves.  Can  we  then,  each  of  us 
put  our  hand  upon  our  heart  and  say  without  stammering, 
which  suggests  a  hypocrite — can  we  say  honestly,  as  in  the 
sight  of  God,  "  I  am  concerned  about  the  things  of  God,  of 
Christ,  of  salvation,  of  eternity  ?  I  may  not  have  assurance, 
but  I  have  concern.  If  I  can  not  say,  I  know  in  whom  I  have 
believed,  yet  I  can  say  I  know  in  whom  I  desire  to  believe.  If 
I  can  not  say,  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  yet  I  can  say 
I  desire  that  I  may  be  found  in  him  at  last,  without  spot  or 
wi'inkle,  or  any  such  thing."  Well,  soul,  if  thou  hast  a  concern 
about  the  things  of  God,  this  is  thy  promise,  and  let  not  Master 
Clip-promise  take  it  away  from  thee  ;  sufler  him  not  to  take 
any  part  of  its  preciousness ;  it  is  all  thine,  "The  Lord  will 
perfect  that  which  concerneth  thee." 

Another  question  is  suggested  by  the  second  clause,  "  Thy 
mercy,  O  Lord,  endureth  for  ever."  Have  we  then  tasted  of 
God's  mercy  ?  Have  you  and  I  gone  to  the  throne  of  grace 
conscious  of  our  lost  estate  ?  Have  we  made  confession  of 
our  sins  ?  Have  we  looked  to  the  blood  of  Jesus  ;  and  do 
we  know  that  the  mercy  of  God  has  been  manifested  to  us  ? 
Have  we  breathed  the  dying  thief's  petition,  and  have  we 
had  the  gracious  answer  of  Jesus  ?  Have  we  prayed  as  the 
publican  did?  and  have  we  gone  to  our  house  justified  by 
God's  mercy?  Remember,  O  man!  if  thou  hast  never  re- 
ceived God's  pardoning  mercy  and  forgiving  grace,  this  text  is 
a  divine  enclosure  into  which  thou  hast  no  right  to  intrude ; 
this  is  a  banquet  of  which  thou  hast  no  right  to  eat ;  this  is  a 
secret  place  into  which  thou  hast  no  right  to  enter.  We 
must  first  taste  God's  mercy,  and,  having  tasted  that,  we  may 
believe  that  he  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  us. 

A  third  question,  and  I  beseech  you  put  these  questions  to 
your  heart,  lest  you  should  be  misled,  by  any  comfortable 
words  that  I  shall  hereafter  sj^eak,  into  the  foul  delusion  that 
this  promise  signifies  yourself,  when  it  does  not.  The  last 
question  is  suggested  by  the  prayer,  "  Forsake  not  the  works 
of  thine  own  hands."  Have  you  then  a  rehgion  which  is  the 
work  of  God's  hands  ?  Many  men  have  a  religion  which  is 
their  own  work,  there  is  nothing  supernatural  about  it ;  human 


FAITU    IN    PERFECTIOX.  439 

nature  began  it,  human  nature  has  carried  it  on,  and  as  far  aS 
they  have  any  hope  they  trust  that  human  nature  will  com- 
plete it.  Remember  there  is  no  spring  on  earth  that  has  force 
enough  in  it  to  spout  a  fountaui  into  Paradise,  and  there  is  no 
strength  in  human  nature  that  shall  ever  suffice  to  raise  a  soul 
to  heaven.  You  may  practice  morality,  and  I  beseech  you  do 
so  ;  you  may  attend  to  ceremonies,  and  you  have  a  right  to  do 
so,  and  must  do  so  ;  you  may  endeavor  to  do  all  righteousness, 
but  since  you  are  a  sinner  condemned  in  the  sight  of  God,  you 
can  never  be  pardoned  apart  from  the  blood  of  Christ ;  and 
you  can  never  be  purified  apart  from  the  purifying  operations 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  That  man's  religion  which  is  born  on 
earth,  and  born  of  the  will  of  the  flesh  or  of  blood,  is  a  vain 
religion.  Oh !  beloved,  except  a  man  be  born  again,  ov  from 
above,  as  the  original^has  it,  he  can  not  see  the  kingdom  of 
God.  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh,  and  can  not 
enter  heaven  ;  only  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit, 
and  is,  therefore,  capable  of  inheriting  a  spiritual  inheritance 
which  God  reserves  for  spiritual  men.  Have  I  then  the  work 
of  God  in  my  heart?  am  I  sure  that  it  is  not  my  own  work  ? 
If  I  am,  experimentally,  an  Arminian,  and  if  I  think  I  have 
proved  the  truth  of  Arminian  religion,  then  I  have  no  religion 
that  will  carry  rae  to  heaven.  But  if,  experimentally,  I  am 
compelled  to  confess  that  grace  begins,  that  grace  carries  on, 
and  that  grace  must  perfect  my  religion,  then  God  having 
began  the  good  work  in  me,  I  am  the  person  for  whom  this 
verse  is  intended,  and,I  may  sit  down  at  this  celestial  banquet 
and  eat  and  drink  to  my  very  full.  * 

Let  each  hearer,  then,  pause  and  put  these  three  questions 
to  himself — ^Ara  I  concerned  about  religion  ?  Have  I  tasted 
the  mercy  of  God  ?  Is  my  religion  God's  work  ?  They  are 
solemn  questions  ;  answer  them  !  and  if  you  can  even  humbly 
say  "  Yes,"  then  come  ye  to  this  text,  for  the  joy  and  comfort 
of  it  is  yours. 

We  have  three  things  here.  First,  the  believer^s  confidence — 
"  Tlie  Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concenieth  me."  Secondly, 
the  ground  of  that  confidence — "Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  en- 
dnrcth  for  ever;"  and  thirdly,  the  result  and  outgrowth  of  his 


440  FAITH    IN   PEEFECTION. 

confidence  expressed  in  the  prayer — "  Forsake  not  the  works 
of  thine  own  hands." 

I.  First,  then,  the  believer's  confidence — "The  Lord 
will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  I  think,  perhaps,  the 
best  way  to  preach  npon  a  text,  if  we  would  have  it  remem- 
bered, is  to  take  it  word  by  word.  Let  us  spell  it  over  then, 
as  Uncle  Tom  did,  when  he  was  on  board  of  the  steamer,  and 
could  not  read  the  long  words,  but  sucked  more  sweetness  out 
of  the  text  by  spelling  it  over,  than  he  could  have  done  in  any 
other  Avay. 

"The  Lord."  Well  then  the  Psalmist's  confidence  was  a 
divine  confidence.  He  did  not  say,  "  I  have  grace  enough  to 
perfect  that  which  concerneth  me ;"  "  my  faith  is  so  strong 
that  I  shall  not  fail ;"  "  my  love  is  so  warm  that  it  will  never 
grow  cold ;"  "  my  resolution  is  so  firmly  set  that  nothing  can 
move  it;" — no,  his  dependence  was  on  the  Lord — "  The  Lord 
will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  And  O  Christian,  if 
thou  hast  any  confidence  which  is  not  grounded  on  the  Lord 
and  rooted  in  the  Rock  of  ages,  thy  confidence  is  worse  than  a 
dream ;  it  shall  deceive  thee,  pierce  thee,  wound  thee,  and 
cast  thee  down  to  thine  own  future  sorrow  and  grief.  But  here, 
our  Psalmist  himself  builds  uj)on  nothing  else  than  upon  the 
Lord's  works.  Sure  I  am  the  Lord  began  the  good  work  in 
our  souls,  he  has  carried  it  on,  and  if  he  does  not  finish  it,  it 
never  will  be  complete.  If  there  be  one  stitch  in  the  celestial 
garment  of  my  righteousness,  which  I  am  to  insert  myself, 
then  I  am  lost.  If  there  be  one  drachma  in  the  price  of  my 
redemption  which  I  am  to  make  up,  then  must  I  perish.  If 
there  be  one  contingency — one  "  if,"  or  "  though,"  or  "  but," 
about  my  soul's  salvation,  then  am  I  a  lost  man.  But  this  is 
my  confidence,  the  Lord  that  began  will  perfect.  He  has  done 
it  all,  must  do  it  all,  he  will  do  it  all.  My  confidence  must  not 
be  in  what  I  can  do,  or  in  what  I  have  resolved  to  do,  but  en- 
tirely in  what  the  Lord  will  do.  "  The  Lord  will  perfect  that 
which  concerneth  me."  "  Oh,"  says  unbelief,  "  you  will  never 
be  able  to  purify  yourself  from  sin.  Look  at  the  evil  of  your 
heart,  you  can  never  sweep  that  away ;  look  at  the  evil  fashions 
and  temptations  of  the  world  that  beset  you,  you  will  surely 


•      FAITH   IN  PERFECrriOX.  441 

be  lured  aside  and  led  astray."  Ah !  yes,  I  should  indeed 
perish  if  it  depended  upon  myself.  I  am  but  as  clay  upon  the 
wheel.  If  I  had  to  fashion  myself  into  a  vessel  of  honor,  fit 
for  the  Master's  use,  I  might  give  up  the  work  in  despair.  I 
am  but  a  little  lamb  ;  and  if  I  had  to  travel  through  the  wil- 
derness by  myself,  I  might  indeed  lie  down  and  die.  Yet  if  I 
be  clay,  he  is  my  potter,  and  he  will  not  suffer  me  to  be  marred 
upon  the  wheel ;  and  if  I  be  a  lamb,  he  is  my  shepherd,  and  he 
carrieth  the  lambs  in  his  bosom — he  wardeth  off  the  wolf,  he 
smiteth  the  destroyer,  and  he  bringeth  every  sheep  into  the 
fold  upon  the  hill-top  of  glory.  The  Lord,  then,  is  the  Chris- 
tian's divine  confidence.  We  can  never  be  too  confident  when 
we  confide  in  the  Lord.  "  Jehovah  will  perfect  that  which 
concemeth  me." 

Take  the  next  word,  "  will.'''*  So  the  Psalmist's  confidence 
was  a  confidence  for  the  future  ;  it  is  not  only  v/hat  the  Lord 
does,  but  what  the  Lord  will  do.  I  have  heard  people  say 
that  they  could  trust  a  man  as  far  as  they  could  see  him ;  and 
I  have  often  thought  that  is  about  as  far  as  many  professors 
trust  God,  so  far  as  they  can  see  him,  and  no  further.  They 
believe  God  is  good  when  the  meat  is  on  the  table,  and  the 
drink  is  in  the  cup ;  but  would  they  believe  God  if  the  table 
were  bare,  and  the  cup  were  empty  ?  No ;  they  have  good 
faith  when  they  see  the  ravens  coming,  that  they  shall  have 
their  bread  and  meat ;  but  if  the  ravens  did  not  come,  would 
they  behove  that  even  then  their  bread  should  be  given  them 
and  their  water  should  be  sure  ?  They  can  believe  the  thing 
when  they  get  it,  but  until  they  get  it  they  arc  doubting.  The 
Psalmist's  faith,  however,  deals  with  the  future,  not  merely 
with  the  present.  "  The  Lord  will,"  says  he,  "  the  Lord 
will."  He  looks  on  all  through  his  life,  and  he  feels  sure  that 
what  God  has  done  and  is  doing  ho  will  carry  on  even  to  the 
end.  And  now  you  that  are  afraid  about  the  future,  rest  with 
us  in  this  sweet  promise.  How  often  do  you  and  I  stand  star- 
gazing into  tlie  future,  and  trembling,  because  we  think  we 
see  divers  portents,  and  strange  sights,  which  portend  some 
future  trouble.  O  child  of  God  !  leave  the  future  to  thy  God. 
O  leave  every  thing  that  is  to  come  in  the  hand  of  him  to 

19* 


442  FAITH   IN  PERFECTION.   • 

whom  the  future  is  ah-eady  present,  and  who  knows  before- 
hand every  thmg  that  shall  befall  thee.  Draw  from  the  present 
living  water  with  which  to  moisten  the  arid  desert  of  the  fu- 
ture ;  snatch  from  the  altar-fires  of  to-day  a  torch  with  whicli 
to  light  up  the  darkness  of  that  which  is  to  come.  Depend 
on  it,  that  He  who  is  to-day  thy  sun,  shall  be  thy  sun  for  ever 
— even  in  the  darkest  hour  he  shall  shine  upon  thee  ;  and  he 
who  is  tO'day  thy  shield  shall  be  thy  shield  for  evermore  ;  and 
even  in  the  thickest  part  of  the  battle  he  shall  catch  the  dart, 
and  thou  shalt  stand  unharmed. 

Let  us  turn  to  this  word  "  wilP^  once  again.  There  is  a 
little  more  in  it ;  it  do<*s  not  say  the  "  Lord  may,"  it  does  not 
say,  "I  hope  he  will;  I  trust  he  will,"  but  it  says  he  will; 
"  the  Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  A  few 
months  after  I  first  sought  and  found  salvation,  I  enjoyed  the 
sweet  privilege  of  full  assurance,  and  in  talking  with  a  godly 
Christian,  I  expressed  myself  very  confidently  concerning  the 
great  truth  that  God  would  ne'er  forsake  his  i^eople,  nor  leave 
his  work  undone.  I  was  at  once  chid,  I  was  told.  I  had  no 
right  to  speak  so  confidently,  for  it  was  presumptuous.  The 
longer  I  live,  the  more  I  feel  persuaded  that  confidence  was 
proper,  and  the  chiding  was  not  deserved.  I  believe  that  the 
happiest  of  Christians  and  the  truest  of  Christians  are  those 
who  never  dare  to  doubt  God,  but  who  take  his  word  simply 
as  it  stands,  and  believe  it  and  ask  no  questions,  just  feeling 
assured  that  if  God  has  said  it  it  will  be  so.  The  Psalmist  in 
our  text  had  no  more  doubt  about  his  own  ultimate  perfection, 
than  he  had  about  his  existence.  He  says,  "  the  Lord  will 
perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  There  are  many  things 
that  may  or  may  not  happen,  but  this.  I  know  shall  happen. 

"He  shall  present  my  soul, 
Unblemished  and  complete, 
Before  the  glory  of  his  face, 
With  joys  divinely  great." 

All  the  purposes  of  man  have  been  defeated,  but  not  the  pur- 
poses of  God,  The  promises  of  man  may  be  broken,  many  of 
them  are  made  to  be  broken,  but  the  purposes  of  God  shall 


FAITH   IX   PEEFECTIOX.  443 

Stand,  and  his  promises  shall  be  fulfilled.  He  is  a  promise 
maker,  but  he  never  was  a  promise  breaker :  he  is  a  promise- 
keeping  God,  and  his  people  shall  prove  it  so.  Come  then,  ye 
that  are  always  hoping  amidst  trembling,  and  fear,  but  are 
never  confident,  for  once  take  that  doubting  note  out  of  your 
mouth,  and  say  assuredly,  "  the  Lord  icill  perfect  that  which 
conceraeth  me."  If  I  be  really  his  child,  though  full  of  sin,  I 
shall  one  day  be  perfect ;  if  I  have  really  set  my  heart  towards 
him,  I  shall  one  day  see  his  face  with  joy ;  and  let  whatever 
foes  obstruct,  I  shall  conquer  through  the  Lamb's  redeeming 
blood.  He  "  tr?7/ perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  I  like 
to  hear  God's  people  speak  difiidently  of  themselves,  but  con- 
fidently of  their  God.  Doubts  are  the  greatest  of  sins,  and 
even  though  Christians  have  doubts,  yet  doubts  are  unchristian 
things.  The  spirit  of  Christ  is  not  a  spirit  of  doubting,  but  a 
spirit  of  believing.  Doubts  may  exist  in  the  hearts  of  spiritual 
men,  but  doubts  are  unspiritual,  carnal,  and  sinful.  Let  us 
seek  to  get  rid  of  them,  and  speak  confidently  where  God's 
word  is  confident. 

Now,  take  the  next  word,  "  The  Lord  will  perfect:''  That 
is  a  large  word.  Our  "VVesleyau  brethren  have  a  notion  that 
they  are  going  to  be  perfect  here  on  earth.  I  should  be  very 
glad  to  see  any  of  them  when  they  are  perfect ;  and  if  any  of 
them  happen  to  be  in  the  position  of  servants  and  want  a 
situation,  I  would  be  happy  to  give  them  any  amount  of  wages 
I  could  spare,  for  I  should  feel  myself  greatly  honored  and 
greatly  blessed  in  having  a  perfect  servant ;  and  what  is  more, 
if  any  of  them  are  masters  and  want  servants,  I  would  under- 
take to  come  and  serve  them  without  wages  at  all  if  I  could 
but  find  a  perfect  master.  I  have  had  a  perfect  master  ever 
since  I  first  knew  the  Lord,  and  if  I  could  find  that  there  is 
another  perfect  master,  I  should  be  greatly  pleased  in  having 
him  as  an  undermaster,  while  the  great  Supreme  must  ever  be 
chief  of  all.  Did  you  ever  see  a  perfect  man  ?  I  did  once. 
He  called  upon  me,  and  wanted  me  to  come  and  see  him,  for 
I  should  get  great  instruction  from  him  if  I  did.  I  said,  "I 
have  no  doubt  of  it,  but  I  should  not  like  to  come  into  your 
fiouse ;  I  think  I  should  be  hardly  able  to  get  into  your  room." 


444  FAITH    IN   PEKFECTION^. 

How  is  that  ?  "  Well,  I  suppose  your  house  would  be  so  full 
of  angels  that  there  would  be  no  room  for  me."  He  did  not 
like  that ;  so  I  broke  another  joke  or  two  upon  his  head  ; 
whereupon  he  went  into  a  perfect  furor.  "  Well,  friend,"  I 
said  to  him,  "  I  think  I  am  as  perfect  as  you  after  all ;  do  per- 
fect men  get  angry  ?"  He  denied  that  he  was  angry,  although 
there  was  a  peculiar  redness  about  his  cheeks  that  is  very  com- 
mon to  persons  when  they  are  angry ;  at  any  rate  I  think  I 
rather  spoiled  his  perfection,  for  he  evidently  went  home  less 
satisfied  with  himself  than  when  he  went  out.  I  met  another 
man  who  considered  himself  perfect,  but  he  was  thoroughly 
mad  ;  and  I  do  not  believe  that  any  of  your  pretenders  to  per- 
fection are  better  than  good  maniacs,  superior  bedlamites — 
that  is  all  I  believe  they  are.  For  while  a  man  has  got  a 
spark  of  reason  left  in  him,  he  can  not,  unless  he  is  the  most 
impudent  of  imposters,  talk  about  his  being  perfect.  What 
would  I  not  give  to  be  perfect  myself!  And  you  can  say  also, 
what  would  you  not  give  to  be  perfect.  If  I  must  be  burnt 
in  fire,  or  dragged  through  the  sea  by  the  hair  of  my  head ; 
if  I  must  be  buried  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  or  hung  up  to 
the  stars  for  ever — if  I  might  but  be  perfect,  I  would  rejoice 
in  any  price  I  might  have  to  pay  for  perfection.  But  I  feel 
perfectly  persuaded,  that  perfection  is  absolutely  impossible  to 
any  man  beneath  the  sky ;  and  yet,  I  feel  sure,  that  to  every 
believer  future  perfection  is  an  absolute  certainty.  The  day 
shall  come,  beloved,  when  the  Lord  shall  not  only  make  us 
better,  but  shall  make  us  perfectly  good ;  when  he  shall  not 
merely  subdue  our  .lusts,  but  when  he  shall  cast  the  demons 
out ;  when  he  shall  make  us  not  only  tolerable,  and  bearable, 
and  endurable,  but  make  us  holy  and  acceptable  in  his  sight. 
That  day,  however,  I  4)elieve,  shall  not  come  until  we  enter 
into  the  joy  of  our  Lord,  and  are  glorified  together  with  Christ 
in  heaven. 

Say,  Christian,  is  not  this  a  large  confidence  ?  "  The  Lord 
will  make  me  perfect."  He  will  most  assuredly,  beyond  a 
doubt,  bring  to  perfection  my  faith,  my  love,  my  hope,  and 
every  grace.  He  will  perfect  his  purposes  ;  he  will  perfect  his 
promises ;  he  will  perfect  my  body  and  perfect  my  soul.  "  He 
\\il\ perfect  that  which  concerneth  mo." 


FAITH  IN  PEnFEcnoN".  445 

And  now  there  is  the  word  "  thaV — "  that  ichicJi"—''  The 
Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  Very  indefinite, 
it  seems;  but  how  broad  it  is.  What  a  broad  faith  the 
Psalmist  had  !  "  Whatever  concerns  me,"  says  he,  "  the 
Lord  will  perfect."  Once  pardon  of  sin  concerned  me  ;  that 
he  has  perfected.  Then  imputed  righteousness  concerned  me ; 
that  he  perfected.  Now,  sanctification  troubles  me  ;  that  he 
will  perfect.  One  day,  deliverance  was  my  fear,  now  it  is  ray 
support.  But  whatever  is  laid  upon  my  heart  to  be  concerned 
about,  this  comprehensive  term,  "  that,"  embraces  all ;  be  it 
what  it  may,  if  I  have  a  spiritual  concern  upon  my  soul  about 
any  heavenly  thing,  that  will  God  perfect. 

Go  on  a  step  further.  Here  is  a  trial  of  faith.  "  The  Lord 
will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me."  Alas,  beloved,  we 
can  not  say  we  have  any  good  thing  without  having  concern 
for  it.  I  suppose  God  never  gave  us  a  blessing,  but  we  doubted 
whether  we  should  have  it  before  we  obtained  it.  Somehow 
or  other  our  doubts  always  go  before  God's  mercies  ;  whereas 
we  ought  to  believe,  and  not  to  feel  any  anxiety  and  distrust- 
ful concern.  lily  faith  is  sometimes  tried  and  concerned  about 
heavenly  thhigs  now.  But  though  that  faith  be  tried  by  an 
inward  concern  about  the  things  of  God,  yet  it  surmounts 
even  its  own  doubts,  and  cries,  "The  Lord  will  perfect  even 
this."  Have  you  learnt  this  lesson  aright — being  troubled 
about  a  thing  and  yet  believing'  about  it  ?  A  Christian  man 
will  find  his  experience  to  be  very  much  like  the  sea.  Upon 
the  surface  there  is  a  storm,  and  the  mountain-waves  are  roll- 
ing ;  but  down  in  the  depths  there  are  caverns  where  quietude 
has  reigned  supreme  ever  since  the  foundations  of  the  earth 
were  digged  ;  where  peace,  undisturbed,  has  had  a  solitary 
triumph.  Beloved,  it  is  so  with  tiie  Christian's  heart.  Out- 
wardly, he  is  concerned  about  these  things.  He  doubts,  he 
fears,  he  trembles ;  but  in  his  inmost  heart,  down  in  tlie  depths 
of  his  soul,  he  is  without  a  fear,  and  lie  can  say  confidently, 
"  The  Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me." 

But  I  hasten  to  dwell  on  the  last  word.  The  faith  of  our 
text  is  a  personal  faith.  "Tiie  Lord  will  perfect  that  which 
concerneth  Twe."     Here  is  the  loudest  note  of  all ;  this  is  the 


446  FAITH   IN   PEKPECTION". 

handle  whereby  we  must  lay  hold  of  this  sword  if  we  would 
use  it  aright — "  that  which  concerneth  me."  Oh,  it  is  a  sweet 
truth  to  know  and  believe  that  God  will  perfect  all  his  saints ; 
'tis  sweeter  still  to  know  that  "  he  will  perfect  me^  It  is 
blessed  to  believe  that  all  God's  people  shall  persevere ;  but 
the  essence  of  delight  is  to  feel  that  Z  shall  persevere  through 
him.  Many  persons  are  contented  with  «  kind  of  general 
religion,  an  universal  salvation.  They  belong  to  a  Christian 
community ;  they  have  joined  a  Christian  church,  and  they 
think  they  shall  be  saved  in  the  lump — in  the  mass  ;  but  give 
me  a  personal  religion.  What  is  all  the  bread  in  the  world, 
unless  I  myself  feed  upon  it  ?  I  am  starved,  though  Egypt 
be  full  of  corn.  What  are  all  the  rivers  that  run  from  the 
mountains  to  the  sea,  if  I  be  thirsty  ?  Unless  I  drink,  myself, 
what  are  all  these?  If  I  be  poor  and  in  rags,  ye  do  but  mock 
me  if  ye  tell  me  that  Potosi's  mines  are  full  of  treasure.  You 
do  but  laugh  at  me  if  you  speak  of  Golconda's  diamonds. 
What  care  I  for  these,  unless  I  have  some  participation  for 
myself?  But  if  I  can  say  even  of  my  crust,  "  It  is  my  own," 
then  I  can  eat  it  with  a  grateful  heart.  That  crust  which  is 
my  own  is  more  precious  than  all  the  granaries  of  Egypt  if 
they  are  not  my  own,  and  this  promise,  even  if  it  were  smaller, 
would  be  more  precious  than  the  largest  promise  that  stands 
in  the  Bible,  if  I  could  not  see  my  right  to  it  personally  my- 
self. But  now,  by  humble  faith,  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of 
Christ,  resting  in  his  merits,  trusting  in  his  death,  I  come  to 
the  text,  and  say  throughout  this  year,  and  every  year,  "  The 
Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me" — unworthy  me, 
lost  and  ruined  me.     He  will  save  me  y  and 

"  I,  among  the  blood- washed  throng, 
Shall  wave  the  palm,  and  wear  the  crown, 
And  shout  loud  victory." 

This,  then,  is  the  believer's  confidence.  May  God  grant  you 
the  same ! 

II.  The  second  thing  is  the  gkound  of  this  confidence. 
The  ground  of  it  is  this — "  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  endureth  for 
ever."     The  believer  is  sure  he  shall  be  saved.     Why?  Be- 


FAITH     IN     PEKFECmON.  44  V 

cause  of  his  merits  ?  No.  Because  of  the  strength  of  his 
own  faith  ?  No.  Because  he  has  something  which  will  rec- 
ommend him  to  God  ?  No  ;  he  believes  he  shall  be  perfected 
because  of  God's  mercy.  Is  it  not  a  strange  thing  that  the 
advanced  behever,  when  he  reaches  to  the  very  height  of 
piety,  just  comes  to  the  spot  where  he  commenced  ?  Do  we 
not  begin  at  the  cross,  and  when  we  have  climbed  ever  so 
high,  is  it  not  at  the  cross  that  we  end  ?  I  kuow  my  pil- 
giimage  shall  never  end  to  my  heart's  content  till  at  his  cross 
again  I  cast  my  wreath  and  lay  my  honors  down.  My  shis  I 
laid  there,  and  aught  else  that  he  has  given  me  I  w^ould  lay 
there  too.  Ye  began  there,  and  your  watchword  is  the  cross. 
While  yet  the  hosts  are  preparing  for  the  battle,  it  is  the 
cross.  And  ye  have  fought  the  fight  and  your  sword  is  red 
with  blood,  and  your  head  is  crowned  with  triumph.  And 
what  is  the  watchword  now?  The  cross.  That  which  is 
our  strength  in  battle  is  om*  boast  in  victory.  Mercy  must  be 
the  theme  of  our  song  here ;  and  mercy  enduring  for  ever 
must  be  the  subject  of  the  sonnets  of  Paradise.  None  other 
can  befit  sinners ;  nay,  and  none  other  can  befit  grateful 
saints. 

Come  then,  beloved,  let  us  just  look  at  this  ground  of  con- 
fidence, and  see  whether  it  wull  bear  our  weight.  It  is  said 
that  elephants,  when  they  are  going  to  cross  a  bridge,  are 
always  very  careful  to. sound  it,  to  see  whether  it  will  bear 
them.  If  they  see  a  horse  going  over  safely  that  is  not 
enough,  for  they  say  to  themselves,  "  I  am  an  elephant,  and  I 
must  see  whether  it  will  bear  me."  Now,  we  should  always 
do  the  same  with  a  promise  and  with  the  groundwork  of  a 
promise.  The  promise  may  have  been  proved  by  others 
before  you,  but  if  you  feel  yourselves  to  be  like  huge  elephan- 
tine sinners,  you  want  to  be  quite  certain  whether  the  arches 
of  the  promise  are  quite  strong  enough  to  bear  the  weight  of 
your  sins.  Now,  I  say,  here  is  God's  mercy.  Ah !  this  is 
indeed  all-sufficient.  What  was  it  that  first  led  the  Lord  to 
bring  you  and  I  into  the  covenant  at  all?  It  was  mercy, 
pure  mercy.  We  were  dead  in  sin.  We  had  not  any  merits 
to  recoraraend  us,  for  some  of  us  used  to  curse  and  swear  like 


448  FAITH     IJf    PEKFECTION'. 

infidels ;  some  of  us  were  drunkards,  sinners  of  the  deepest 
dye.  And  why  did  God  save  us  ?  Simply  because  he  has 
said,  "I  will  have  mercy  upon  whom  I  will  have  mercy." 

"  "What  was  there  in  you  that  could  merit  esteem, 
Or  give  the  Creator  dehght  ?" 

'Twas  mercy.  Well,  then,  if  mercy  made  God  choose  me,  if 
he  chose  me  from  no  other  motive  than  mercy,  if  that  mercy 
always  is  the  same,  he  always  will  choose  me,  and  always  will 
love  me.  Do  you  not  know  it  is  a  rule  which  none  can  dispute, 
that  the  same  cause  must  always  produce  the  same  effect  ? 
We  are  told  that  the  volcano  is  caused  by  certain  fires  within 
the  earth,  which  must  find  their  vent.  Kow,  as  long  as  there 
are  those  inward  fires,  and  they  are  in  a  condition  to  require 
the  vent,  the  vent  they  must  have.  When  the  cause  is  the 
same,  the  effect  must  be  the  same. 

The  sole  cause,  then,  of  the  salvation  of  any  man  is  the 
mercy  of  God,  and  not  his  merits.  God  does  not  look  at  you 
whether  you  are  a  good  man  or  a  bad  man  ;  he  does  not  save 
you  because  of  any  thing  in  yourself,  but  because  he  will  do 
as  he  pleases,  and  because  he  loves  to  act  mercifully ;  that  is 
his  only  reason.  Oh !  my  God,  if  thou  lovedst  me  when  I 
had  not  any  faith,  thou  wilt  not  cast  me  away  because  my 
faith  is  w^eak  now.  If  thou  lovedst  me  when  I  had  all  my  sin 
about  me,  thou  wilt  not  leave  off  loving  me  now  thou  ha^t 
pardoned  me.  If  thou  lovedst  me  when  I  was  in  my  rags, 
and  beggary,  and  filth,  when  there  w^as  nothing  to  recommend 
me  ;  at  least,  my  God,  I  am  not  further  fallen  than  I  was  then, 
or,  if  I  am,  the  same  boundless  mercy  that  loved  me  when  I 
was  lost,  will  love  me,  lost  though  I  be  even  now.  Do  you 
not  see  it  is  because  the  basis  of  eternal  love  is  that  on  w^hich 
we  build  that  w^e  derive  this  inference,  that  if  the  base  can 
not  move,  the  pyramid  will  not  ?  "The  mercy  of  God  en- 
dureth  for  ever  :  the  Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth 
me." 

Note  the  very  words  of  the  text:  "Thy  mercy,  O  Lord." 
David  brings  his  confidence  into  the  court  of  divine  inspec- 
tion, in  order  that  it  may  there  be  proved.     He  says,  "  The 


FAITU    IN   PEKFECTIOX.  449 

Lord  will  perfect  that  wluch  concerneth  me."  It  is  very  well 
for  you  and  I  to  speak  thus  here  this  morning,  but  dare  we  go 
up  to  the  very  temple  of  God,  and  there,  feeling  his  presence, 
actually  present  our  confidence  before  him,  and  ask  him  to  try 
it  ?  There  ai*e  many  hypocrites  in  the  world  that  would  trem- 
ble to  play  the  hypocrite  if  they  felt  that  they  were  in  the  pres- 
ence of  God.  But  here  we  have  a  man  that  dares  to  bring  his 
faith  to  God's  tribunal ;  he  puts  it  in  the  scales  of  infinite  jus- 
tice, and  waits  the  decision.  "  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord."  Can  you 
do  the  same  ?    Who  among  us  can  cry  out  with  Toplady — 

"  The  terrors  of  law  and  of  Grod, 
"With  me  can  have  nothing  to  do, 
My  Saviour's  obedience  and  blood, 
Hide  all  my  transgressions  from  view  ?" 

Can  you  come  into  God's  presence  and  say  this,  or,  to  quoto 
Hart's  words,  can  you  say, 

"  Great  Grod  I'm  clean, 
Through  Jesu's  blood  I'm  clean  ?" 

He  that  can  say  this,  is  blessed  indeed  ;  the  Lord  shall  perfect 
that  which  concerneth  him. 

Ah,  what  if  God's  mercy  towards  men  should  change? 
Blessed  be  his  name,  it  can  not ;  it  endureth  for  ever.  But 
what  if  he  should  remove  his  mercy  from  one  man  to  another? 
That  also  he  will  never  do  ;  it  endureth  for  ever.  But  sup- 
pose we  should  sin  so  much  that  God's  mercy  should  give 
way  ?  It  can  not  give  way  ;  it  endureth  all  the  weight  of  sin ; 
it  endureth  for  ever.  But  what  if  we  should  live  in  sin  so  long 
that  at  last  God  denied  mercy  to  us  even  though  we  believed  in 
him  ?  That  can  not  be ;  we  can  not  sin  longer  than  for  ever 
— his  mercy  can  not  be  tried  longer,  and  even  if  it  could  bo 
tried  for  ever  it  would  endure  for  ever.  All  the  weight  of  my 
trouble,  all  the  weight  of  my  backsliding,  all  the  weight  of  my 
evil  heart  of  unbehef— all  these  the  everlasting  arches  of  divine 
mercy  can  and  will  sustain.  Those  arches  never  shall  rock ;  the 
stone  never  shall  be  crumbled ;  it  never  shall  be  swept  away  by 
even  the  floods  of  eternity  itself.  Because  hb  mercy  endureth 


450  FAITH   IN   PEEPECnON. 

for  ever,  God  will  most  assuredly  perfect  the  work  of  his 
hands. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  third  and  last  point,  and  here 
may  the  Holy  Spirit  help  me  to  stir  up  your  minds  to 
prayer. 

III.  The  third  particular  is — ^the  result  of  the  believer's 
CONFIDEXCE — it  leads  him  to  prayer.     Out  upon  those  men 
who  have  a  confidence  that  helps  them  to  live  without  prayer. 
There  are  men  that  live  in  this  world  who  say  we  do  not  need 
evidences,  we  do  not  need  prayer,  we  do  not  need  good  works. 
"  The  Lord  has  appeared  of  old  unto  me,  and  said  unto  me, 
Thou  art  one  of  God's  elect,  and  thou  mayest  live  in  sin,  and 
do  whatever  thou  pleasest,  I  will  save  thee  at  last."     Such 
characters  I  hope  are  getting  rare.     Alas !  there  are  certain 
places  of  worship  where  such  a  religion  as  that  is  fostered,  if 
it  be  not  begotten.     There  are  some  ministers — I  trust  they 
hardly  know  what  they  are  about — who  by  leaving  out  the 
doctrine  of  man's  responsibility,  naturally  lead  men  into  that 
guilty  and  abominable  doctrine  of  Antinomianism  which  has 
done  so  much  to  injure  the  cause  of  Christ.     Hear,  then,  ye 
seed  of  the  presumptuous,  and  ye  that  bear  the  whore's  fore- 
head, hear  and  tremble.     The  Lord   hath  not  chosen  you,. 
neither  has  he  cast  your  name  into  his  lap.    He  has  chosen  no 
man  who  lives  and  dies  presumptuously  trusting  that  he  is 
chosen  when  he  has  no  evidence  of  it.     Do  you  live  without 
prayer?     Ah!  soul;  election  hath  naught  to  do  with  thee. 
What  is  intended  by  the  doctrine  of  reprobation  is  far  more 
likely  to  be  thy  lot  than  the  glorious  inheritance  of  election. 
Dost  thou  live  in  sin,  that  grace  may  abound !     Every  man's 
damnation  is  just,  but  thine  shall  be  emphatically  so.    What ! 
dost  thou  dare  to  palm  thyself  off  as  a  child  of  God  when  thou 
art  a  brat  of  hell  ?     Dost  thou  claim  that  thou  art  an  heir  of 
light,  when  the  damning  mark  of  Cain  is  on  thy  very  fore- 
head ?     What !    when  thou  art  like  Balaam,  presumptuous 
and  abominable,  dost  thou  dare  still  to  claim  a  lot  in  the  in- 
heritance of  the  saints  of  light  ?     Away  with  thy  confidence ; 
"  hell  shall  sweep  away  thy  refuge  of  lies."     The  true-born 


FAITH   IN   PERFECTION.  451 

child  of  God  has  a  spot  that  is  not  like  thy  spot ;  he  is  of  a 
different  mould  and  make  from  thee.  Thou  art  a  deceiver — 
not  the  legitimate  child  of  God. 

Mark,  my  friends,  in  the  text,  that  a  genuine  confidence  in 
God  does  not  lead  us  to  give  up  prayer,  but  leads  us  to  prayer. 
"  Tlie  Lord  will  perfect  me."  Am  I,  therefore  to  say,  "  He 
will  do  it,  and  I  will  not  pray  ?"  No,  because  he  w^ill  do  it, 
therefore  will  I  pray.  Many  persons  have  such  shallow  minds 
that  they  can  not  perceive  how  God's  determination  and  our 
own  free  action  can  go  together.  I  never  find  these  people 
making  the  same  mistake  in  common  life  they  do  on  religious 
subjects.  A  man  says  to  me,  "  Now,  sir,  if  God  intends  to 
save  me,  I  need  do  nothing."  He  knows  he  is  a  fool  when  he 
says  it ;  or  if  he  does  not'  know  it,  I  will  soon  make  him  see 
it.  Suppose  he  says,  again,  "  If  the  Lord  intends  to  feed  me, 
he  will  feed  me,  and  I  will  go  without  my  dinner.  If  the  Lord 
intends  to  give  me  a  harvest,  he  will  give  me  a  harvest,  and  I 
shall  not  sow  any  wheat,  and  I  shall  not  plow."  Suppose 
another  were  to  say,  "  If  the  Lord  intends  to  keep  me  warm 
to-dny,  he  will  do  it ;  so  I  will  not  put  on  my  coat."  Suppose 
a  man  should  say,  again,  "  If  the  Lord  intends  me  to  go  to 
bed  to-night,  I  shall  go  to  bed ;  and,  therefore,  I  shall  not  _ 
w^alk.  towards  home,  but  sit  here  as  long  as  I  like."  You  smile 
at  once,  because  the  folly  is  self-convicting.  But  is  it  not  just 
the  same  in  religion?  Because  "the  Lord  will  perfect  that 
which  concerneth  me,"  am  I  to  say  I  shall  not  pray  ?  Why, 
no,  my  dear  friends,  the  fact  is,  that  a  knowledge  that  a  thing 
is  certain  prompts  a  wise  man  to  action.  What  made  Oliver 
Cromwell  fight  so  bravely,  but  because  he  felt  convinced  that 
he  should  conquer  ?  He  did  not  say,  "  I  shall  conquer,  there- 
fore I  will  not  fight :"  no,  lie  said,  "  I  know  that  I  shall  con- 
quer; therefore  keep  your  powder  dry,  trust  in  God,  and  at 
-cm  !"  So  with  you  ;  if  you  believe  the  Lord  will  perfect  that 
which  concerneth  us,  begin  with  prayer ;  trust  the  promise, 
and  let  us  go  on  cheerfully  through  the  world,  rejoicing  in  the 
Lord  our  God.  Confidence  must  not  lead  to  idleness,  but  to 
diligent  activity. 


452  FAITH    IX   PERFECTION. 

And  now,  note  this  prayer — "  Forsake  not  the  works  of 
thine  own  hands."  The  prayer  is  full  of  confession  ;  it  must 
be  that  or  else  it  is  never  true  prayer.  The  Psalmist  confesses 
that  if  God  did  forsake  him  it  would  be  all  over  with  him,  and 
this  is  a  truth,  brethren,  that  you  and  I  ought  ever  to  keep  in 
mind.  We  sometimes  pray  that  God  will  not  forsake  us  in 
temptation  ;  do  you  not  know  we  should  be  as  much  lost  if  he 
were  to  forsake  us  in  communion  as  if  he  were  to  forsake  us 
in  temptation.  When  God  puts  you  on  the  pinnacle  of  the 
temple,  you  need  say,  "  Lord,  hold  me  up  and  I  shall  be  safe  ; 
do  not  forsake  me  here."  When  you  are  down  on  the  ground, 
if  the  Lord  were  to  forsake  you,  there  you  would  peiish  just 
as  easily  as  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple.  I  have  known  the 
Christian  on  his  knees  in  the  den  'of  leopards,  cry,  "  Lord, 
save  me  now,"  but  do  you  know  that  he  has  as  great  a  need 
of  help  when  he  is  on  the  top  of  Pisgah?  for  he  still  wants  to 
be  kept.  Every  moment  of  our  life  we  are  on  the  brink  of 
hell,  and  if  the  Lord  should  forsake  us,  we  should  certainly 
perish.  Let  him  but  withdraw  the  salt  of  his  grace,  and  the 
proudest  believer  must  be  cast  into  the  depths  of  bell,  and 
fall,  like  Lucifer,  never  to  rise  again.  Oh  !  let  this  always 
make  us  cry  aloud,  "Forsake  us  not,  O  God." 

There  is  yet  another  confession  in  the  text — the  Psalmist's 
confession  that  alt  he  has  he  has  from  God.  "  Forsake  not 
the  work  of  thine  own  hands."  I  will  not  however  dwell 
upon  it,  but  urge  you  who  are  believers,  to  go  home  and  cry 
aloud  to  God  in  prayer.  "  Forsake  not  the  work  of  thine 
hands.  Father,  forsake  not  thy  little  child,  lest  he  die  by  the 
hand  of  the  enemy.  Shepherd,  forsake  not  thy  lamb,  lest 
the  wolves  devour  him.  Great  husbandman,  forsake  not  thy 
little  plant,  lest  the  frost  should  nip  it,  and  it  should  be 
destroyed.  Forsake  me  not,  O  Lord  now,  and  when  I  am  old 
and  gray  headed,  O  Lord,  forsake  me  not.  Forsake  me  not 
in  my  joys,  lest  I  curse  God.  Forsake  me  not  in  my  sorrows, 
lest  1  murmur  against  him.  Forsake  me  not  in  the  day  of  my 
repentance,  lest  I  lose  the  hope  of  pardon,  and  fall  into  despair ; 
and  forsake  me  not  in  the  day  of  my  strongest  faith,  lest  my 


FAITH    IN    PERFECIIO.N-  453 

faith  degenerate  into  presumption,  and  so  I  perish  by  my 
own  hand."  Cry  out  to  God,  tliat  he  would  not  forsake  you 
in  your  business,  in  your  fimily ;  that  he  would  not  forsake 
you  either  upon  your  bed  by  night,  or  in  your  business  by 
day.  And  may  God  grant,  when  you  and  I  shall  come  to  the 
end  of  this  year,  we  may  have  a  good  tale  to  tell  concerning 
the  faithfulness  of  God  in  having  answered  our  prayers,  and 
having  fulfilled  his  promise. 

I  would  now  this  day  crave  a  part  in  your  prayers.  My 
dear  friends,  I  am  confident  that  God  will  perfect  that  which 
concerneth  me.  There  has  been  a  work  done  in  this  place, 
and  God  has  blessed  the  congregation ;  but  the  w^ork  is  not 
perfect  yet.  It  is  not  enough  to  rouse  other  ministers  to 
preach  the  word.  I  hope  I  shall  never,  while  I  live,  cease  to 
have  another  j^roject  always  in  hand.  When  one  thing  is 
done,  we  will  do  something  else.  If  we  have  tried  to  make 
ministers  more  diligent  in  preaching,  we  must  try  to  make  the 
churches  more  earnest  in  praying.  When  we  have  built  our 
new  chapel,  we  must  build  something  else ;  we  must  Jjlways 
have  something  in  hand.  If  I  have  preached  the  gospel  in 
England,  it  must  be  my  privilege  to  preach  it  across  the  sea 
yet ;  and  w^hen  I  have  preached  it  there,  I  must  solicit  longer 
leave  of  absence  that  I  may  preach  it  in  other  countries,  and 
act  as  a  missionary  throughout  the  nations.  I  am  confident 
that  God  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me ;  I  rely  on 
that.  Do  I  therefore  say  that  you  need  not  pray  ?  Oh,  no. 
Pray  that  he  would  not  forsake  the  work  of  his  own  hands. 
This  work  is  not  of  our  own  hands.  This  labor  of  love  is  not 
mine,  but  God's.  I  have  done  nothing,  except  as  the  instru- 
ment ;*  he  has  done  it  all.  Oh,  my  dear  friends,  you  that  love 
me,  as  a  brother  in  Christ,  and  as  your  pastor  in  the  church, 
go  home  and  plead  with  God  for  me  this  day  and  henceforth, 
that  he  would  not  forsake  his  work ;  but  that  the  fire  which 
has  been  kindled  here  may  run  along  the  ground,  till  all  En- 
gland shall  be  in  a  blaze  with  a  revival  of  grace  and  godliness. 
Be  not  content  to  warm  your  hands  at  the  sparks  of  this  fire. 
Ask  that  the  breath  of  God's  Spirit  may  blow  the  sparks  across 


454  FAITH    IN    PERFECTION. 

the  sea,  that  other  lands  may  catch  the  flames,  till  the  whole 
earth  bnrnmg  as  a  holocaust  to  heaven,  shall  be  accepted  as  a 
whole  burnt  offering  before  the  throne  of  God  Most  High. 

"  May  the  Lord  bless  you,  and  keep  you,  and  cause  his  face 
to  shine  upon  you,  and  lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance 
upon  you,  and  give  you  peace,"  and  unto  the  Father,  the  Son 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  shall  be  glory  for  ever ! 


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A  more  interesting  work  of  the  kind,  we  think,  has  rarely  ever  been  brought  before  the 
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gain  information  will  find  this  volume  a  valuable  cimpanion.  A  general  fault  with  descrip- 
tive works  of  this  part  of  the  globe  is  the  size — so  numerous  are  the  thoughts  that  crowd  on 
the  writer — here,  however,  we  find  the  whole  happily  condensed  within  reasonable  limits, 
snd  with  language  so  weU  chosen  that  the  reader  may  intellectually  follow  the  guidance  of 
the  author.  The  writer  ihinkg,  and  we  agree  with  him,  '  that  no  volume  of  eqt?al  dimen^ 
sions  can  be  found  to  contain  more  information  on  the  countries  of  which  it  treats  than 
this. '  We  have  no  personal  acquaintance  with  the  author,  and  know  not  his  religious  sen 
tfments,  but  we  are  persuaded  that,  while  all  readers  will  find  something  in  the  book  that 
will  please  them,  no  Christian  will  find  that  with  whch  he  will  have  cause  to  be  displeased  '' 
RdiffUms  Recorder. 

*'  We  deem  this  volume  the  most  interesting  book  of  travels  relating  to  the  countries  of 
which  it  treats,  that  has  come  under  our  inspection.  Its  condensed  form,  and  concise  maa 
oer,  together  with  the  ,*^.ehxiefls  of  its  matfter,  render  it  a  Valuable  work. "— Afonj'oe  RepuHiccm 


Books  Published  by  Sheldon,  Blaheman  (&  Co, 
A  NEW  BAPTIST  HYMN  AND  TUNE-BOOK, 

FOR  THE  EXCOURAGEMENT  OF  CONGREGATIONAL  SINGING  ; 

BEING  THE  PLYMOUTH  COLLECTION  OF  HTMNS  AND  TUNES: 

laOJLBGED  AND  ADAPTED  TO  TUB  VS&  OP  BAPTIST  CHtTBCIIES. 

The  grounds  on  which  this  hook  has  been  prepared  and  offered  to  the  Baptist  Churches 
may  be  learned  from  the  following  correspondence  addressed  to  the  publishers  of  the 
*'  Plymouth  Collection." 

Bmokhrn,  May  1st,  1857. 

Gents : — The  Pierrepont  Street  Baptist  Church  being  greatly  interested  in  the  improve 
ment  of  Congrepational  Singing,  h;\ve  had  their  attention  directed  to  the  merit  and  useful 
ness  of  the  "  PLYMOurri  Collkction  of  Hymxs  axd  Tunks"  published  by  you.  Many  of 
us  have  examined  it  carefully,  used  it  in  our  families,  and  observed  its  influence  upon  the 
singing  in  public  worship,  and  we  are  led  to  believe  that  it  is,  on  the  whole,  better  adopted 
to  promote  Oongrej^ational  Singing  than  any  other  book  now  before  the  public,  and  that, 
•with  some  alterations  and  additions,  it  might  be  well  adapted  to  the  use  of  Baptist  Churches^ 
and  be  made  to  supply  a  want  at  present  extensively  felt  among  ua. 

In  this  view,  at  a  meeting  of  the  Church,  held  April  1st,  1S5T,  the  following  resolutions 
•were  passed  unanimously,  and  directed  to  be  communicated  to  you  :— Resolved,  Ist.  That 
•we  request  of  the  editor  and  publishers  an  edition  of  the  "  Plymouth  Collection  of 
Hymns  and  Tunes'"  adapted  to  the  use  of  Baptist  Churches.  2d.  And  that  upon  issue 
of  such  an  edition,  that  this  Church  use  the  same  in  their  public  worship. 

Yours  truly,  WILLIAM  F.  FORBY,  Clebk. 

The  editor  and  publishers  of  the  "  Plymouth  Collection"  having  signified  their  will- 
ingness to  accede  to  the  above  request.  Rev.  J.  S.  Holme,  Pastor  of  the  Pierrepont  Street 
Baptist  Church,  Brooklyn,  has,  at  their  request,  and  with  the  advice  and  co-operation  of 
a  large  number  of  the  pastors  of  other  Baptist  Churches,  prepared  for  publication  a  new- 
edition  of  the  "  Plymouth  Collection."  All  Hymns  have  been  stricken  out  that  seemed 
not  in  harmony  with  the  •views  and  feelings  of  Baptists,  and  a  large  number  have  been 
added,  not  only  of  a  denominational  character,  but  those  old  familiar  hymns,  which,  by 
long  use,  have  become  much  endeared  to  the  Baptist  Churches.  The  original  plan  of  the 
book  has  been  carried  out  in  restoring  old  standard  hymns,  which  have  been  mutilated  by 
attempted  improvements,  to  their  former  integrity.  A  few  choice  hymns  have  been  added 
that  have  never  appeared  in  any  collection,  and  a  number  of  original  hymns  on  Baptism 
and  subjects  in  which  hymnology  appeared  especially  barren — such  as  Home  Missiong — 
have  been  obtained  from  very  distinguished  pens.  Especial  acknowledgments  for  orig- 
inal hymns  are  due,  among  others,  to  William  C.  Bryant.  Esq.,  G.  W.  Bktuune,  D.D., 
8.  F.  Smith,  D.D.,  S.  D.  Phelps,  D.D.,  Chables  TmraBKB,  and  Rev.  Sydney  Dyeb. 
This  edition  contains  about  150  hymns  and  50  tunes  more  than  the  original  number  of 
the  "  Plymouth  Collection,"  making  in  aU  about  1,600  hymns  and  400  tunes,  which,  it  ia 
believed  will  form  the  most  complete  collection  of  the  kind  ever  offered  to  the  public 

The  Musical  arrangement  for  the  new  matter  of  the  present  edition  has  been  under  the 
control  of  Pbofessob  Robebt  R.  Raymond. 

Among  the  peculiarities  of  this  book,  the  following  may  in  brief  be  specially  noted : 

1.  Its  primary  object  is  to  promote  the  interests  of  Congregational  Singing. 

2.  Every  hymn  is  set  to  appropriate  music.  For  the  most  part,  the  tune  is  on  the  same 
paj?e  with  the  hymn. 

8.  It  abounds  in  old  familiar  tunes,  and  plain  and  easy  melodies,  such  as  congregations 
generally  not  only  can,  but  love  to  sing. 

4  This  book,  containing  about  1,600  hymns  and  400  tunes,  presents  a  wider  range 
for  adaptation  and  taste  than  any  other  book  ever  presented  to  the  public. 

6.  It  is  especially  rich  in  warm,  soul-stirring  re'vival  mclodiea 

6.  It  is  adapted  equally  to  the  conference  meeting,  the  family  circle,  and  the  great 
congregation ;  so  that  one  book  will  not  only  suffice  for  all  these  places,  but  in  the  uso  of, 
one  book  all  these  separate  exercises  arc  made  fo  contribute  to  the  improvement  of  the 
music  of  each,  and  eroedally  to  that  of  the  more  public  services  of  the  sanctuary. 

T.  The  book  may  be  used  by  churches  in  the  public  service,  cither  toith  or  witfumt  a 
boir  as  they  may  prefer. 

9.  The  Indexes  of  this  book  are  so  full  and  complete  that  it  is  hoped  they  •will  mate- 
fiallj  lessen  the  Inoon'^eDlaice  so  generally  felt  by  ministers  in  the  selection  of  suitable 


PRICES  OF  THE  BAPTIST  HYMN  AND  TUNE-BOOK, 
In  Phln  Binding,  $1  00.  Extra  Gilt,  $2  50.  Super  Extra,  $8  60. 

Chorehee  vishing  them  for  introduction  will  bo  supplied  at  a  liberal  discount. 

SHELDON,  BLAKEMAN  &  CO., 

FXJBUBEERB,   115  NASSAU  STREET,  N.  Y. 


Books  Published  by  Sheldon^  Blaheman  <&  Co. 

A  NEW  WORK   BY   DR.  WAYLAND. 

PRINCIPLES 

AND 

PRACTICES  OF  BAPTISTS. 


FRANCIS    WAYLAND,    D.D. 

ONE  VOIiUMK,  l^mo.    CLOTH,  $1. 

From  the  Christian  Chronicle,  Philadelphia, 
"  Dr.  Wayland  reviews  our  whole  Baptist  polity,  commends  where  he  sees  cause  for  it, 
and  reproves  and  suggests  the  remedy  where  he  sees  cause  for  this.  All  our  Principles 
and  Practices  as  a  church  he  considers  and  discusses  with  great  simplicity  and  earnest- 
ness. *  *  *  Vfe  hope  the  book  will  find  its  way  into  every  family  in  every  Baptist 
Church  in  the  land,  and  should  he  glad  to  know  it  was  generally  circulated  in  the  families 
of  other  churches." 

From  the  North  A'oierican  Review. 
"  "We  do  not  remember  to  have  met  anywhere,  in  the  same  space,  with  so  much  prac- 
tical wisdom  on  sermon-making,  on  the  delivery  of  sermons,  and  on  the  manner  of  the 
pulpit,  as  is  condensed  into  the  last  fifty  pages  of  this  book." 

From  the  New  York  Observer. 
"  We  regard  it  as  one  of  the  most  interesting  features  in  modern  Baptist  history,  that 
one  to  whom  the  whole  body  defers  with  so  much  and  so  deserved  respect,  has  consecrated 
the  evening  of  a  long  and  well-spent  life,  and  the  maturity  of  a  cultivated  and  profound 
intallect,  and  the  treasures  of  much  laborious  study,  to  the  preparation  of  these  essays, 
which  will  be  received,  not  by  the  denomination  only,  but  by  the  Christian  public,  as  a 
most  valuable  contribution  to  ecclesiastical  literature." 

From  the  Freewill  Baptist  Quarterly. 
"  There  has  no  book  fallen  under  our  eye  better  adapted  to  our  denominational  wants 
than  this  very  book ;  especially  in  its  bearing  upon  the  ministry.     Most  forcibly  does  it 
urge  the  encouragement  of  men  from  every  calling  in  life  to  enter  the  ministry." 

From  tJie  Examiner. 
"It  is  in  style  of  utterance,  to  use  an  image  of  Bacon's,  but  the  first  crashing  of  the 
clusters  in  the  press,  not  the  protracted  twisting  that  leaves  the  harsh  taste  of  grape  skin 
and  stems  in  the  wine.  It  is,  unless  we  greatly  misjudge,  a  work  likely  to  remain,  and 
to  leave  the  enduring  mark  of  its  happiest  influence  upon  our  denomination,  history,  and 
character." 

SENT  BY  MAIL,  postage  paid,  on  receipt  of  ONE  DOLLAR, 


NEW  WORK  BY  W.  R.  WILLIAMS,  D.D. 

CHARITY    AND    THE    GOSPEL; 

Being  Lectures  on  First  Corinthians,  13th  Chapter. 
WiU  be  ready  m  October. 


Books  Published  by  Sheldon^  Blakeman  <&  Co, 
THE  ALMOST  CHRISTIAN. 

By  Rev.  Matthew  Mead. 
With  an  Introdnction  by  W.  R.  Willi^vms,  D.D.    18mo.    Price  45  cents. 

"  Mr.  Mead  was  cotemporary  with  those  great  lights  of  the  Church,  Owen,  Bunyan, 
and  Baxter.  But  his  works  had  the  special  commendation  of  Richard  Baxter,  who  ad- 
vised such  as  wished  to  place  the  best  religions  books  in  their  libraries,  to  obtain  as  many 
of  Mr.  Mead's  as  they  could  get  It  is  full  of  thought,  ingenious  in  argument,  discrimin- 
ating, and  highly  evangelical." 

"  We  hail  this  comely  reprint  with  increased  gladness,  the  more  especially  as  it  is  very 
appropriate  to  the  times,  there  being  reason  to  fear  that  very  many  have  a  name  to  live 
While  they  are  dead.  For  searching  fidelity  it  ranks  with  the  experimental  treatifies  of 
fiaxter  and  Owen." — Christian  Mirror. 

"  FATHER  CLARK ;" 

OR,    THE   PIONEER   PREACHER. 
By  an  Old  Pioneer.     1  voL,  laxge  JBrno.     Gilt,  muslin.     *l$  cents. 

••  It  would  not  take  long  to  '  guess'  who  the  '  Old  Pioneer'  is,  who  has  easayed  collect- 
ing and  weaving  into  a  connected  narrative  the  materials  of  this  book.  He  certainly  la 
entitled  to  '  a  vote  of  thanks,'  for  the  suggestive  tribute  to  departed  excellence,  which  ia 
here  given  in  a  form  that  ensures  ita  preservation." — Boston  Watchman  and  Reflector. 

*'  It  is  a  book  that  can  not  fail  to  interest"— Alsw  York  Chronicle. 

"The  adventures  of  John  Clark,  in  early  life,  were  more  wonderful  than  fiction." — 
Philadelphia  Christian  Observer. 

"A  picture  of  his  life  is  filled  out  to  a  large  extent  with  the  history  of  that  new  country, 
and  will  be  seen  and  traced  with  much  interest  by  the  general  re&der.''— Philadelphia 
Christian  Chronicle. 

"  It  abounds  in  sketches  and  incidents  following  the  course  of  emigration  from  Virginia 
to  Georgia,  to  Kentucky,  Illinois,  and  Missouri,  which  depict  various  forms  and  phases  of 

Eioneer  life,  and  give  to  the  book  a  most  fascinating  interest.     It  can  not  foil  to  be  an 
nmensely  popular  as  well  as  useful  book." — New  York  Recorder  and  Register. 
"The  work  abounds  with  interesting  incidents,  and  has  almost  the  air  of  a  romance, 
while  yet  it  portrays  a  singularly  benevolent  and  exalted  character,  in  the  formation  of 
which  may  be  distinctly  recognized  the  providence  and  grace  of  Ctod.." —PhUMelphia 
Lutheran  Observer. 

"The  book  will  be  found  highly  interesting  to  the  adult,  but  it  is  especially  adapted  to 
do  good  to  the  young.  Every  Sabbath  School  should  place  a  copy  in  its  library."— flia/t- 
/ord  Christian  Secretary. 

THE  MIRROR ; 

OR,  A  DELINEATION  OF  DIFFERENT  CLASSES  OP  CHRISTIANS. 

In  a  Series  of  Lectures. 

By  the  Eev.  J.  B.  Jeter,  D.D.,  of  Richmond,  Va.,  with  an  Introduction  by 

Bey.  A.  M.  Polndexter.    1  voL,  18mo,  Muslin,  246  pp.    Price  60  cents. 

OOKTEMTS. 

Introdnction.  Living  ChristianB. 

Growing  Christians  Useful  Christians. 

Happy  Christians.  Doubting  Christians. 

Timid  Christians.  Indolent  Christians. 

Innocent  Christiani.  Fashionable  Christian* 

Frivoloas  Christians.  Sensitive  Christians. 

Censorious  Christians.  Obstinate  Christiana. 

Speculative  Christians.  Covetons  Christians. 

Bnm-driDking  CbristiaDi.  Inoontistent  CbristianiL 


Books  Published  by  Sheldon^  Blakeman  <h  Co. 


aEAOE     TEUMAN; 

OR,  LOVE  AND  PRINCIPLE. 

By  Saulee  Rochestee  Foed.    With  Steel  Portrait  of  the  Authoress. 

1  vol.,  12mo.    Price  $1. 

"  We  have  read  the  book  with  uncommon  interest.  The  tale  is  well  told,  and  its  de- 
velopment is  naturaL  It  is  intended  to  illustrate  the  trials  and  triumphs  of  a  young  wife, 
in  maintaining  her  principles  against  the  intolerance  of  the  open  communion  friends  oi 
her  husband ;  and  this  is  done  so  as  to  preserve  unfailing  freshness  in  the  narrative,  and 
to  throw  a  flood  of  light  on  the  principles  and  practices  of  the  Baptist  denomination.  We 
expect  to  hear  that  the  book  will  have  multitudes  of  readers.' ' — New  York  Examiner. 

"  This  is  truly  a  delightful  book.  Mrs.  Ford  has  thrown  around  a  young  bride— the 
Christian  heroine  of  this  fascinating  romance — such  severe,  and  yet  such  life-like  trials, 
that  we  at  once  become  deeply  interested  in  her  behalf,  and  watch,  with  great  solicitude^ 
the  result  of  the  struggle  between  Love  and  Principle,  as  we  follow  her  through  some  of 
the  most  trying  scenes." — New  York  Chronicle. 

"  This  work,  we  predict,  will  create  a  sensation  in  this  country  srch  as  has  attended 
the  issue  of  few  books  for  a  long  time,  and  its  popularity  must  exceed  that  of  any  other 
work  of  a  similar  kind  that  has  recently  appeared.  What  is  more  important  still,  it  is  a 
book  which  can  not  fail  to  do  good  wherever  it  is  circulated." — Western  Watchman. 

"  '  Grace  Truman'  is  another  religious  novel,  founded  on  facts,  as  any  one  may  see  who 
is  familiar  with  denominational  prejudice.  It  is  written  to  show  how  many  difficulties 
one  may  meet,  and  how  much  actual  persecution  they  may  endure,  in  the  attempt  to  fol- 
low out  what  they  conscientiously  may  believe  to  be  right,  when  their,  friends,  relatives, 
and  social  connections  believe  a  different  way.  Mrs.  Ford  has  skillfully  drawn  a  picture 
of  what  she  has  seen  and  known.  The  work  is  true  to  real  life,  and  therefore  it  will  be 
read." — Mothers'  Journal. 

"  We  have  been  borne  through  the  perusal  of  this  book  with  unflagging  interest.  Like 
'  Theodosia  Ernest,'  it  is  designed  for  the  illustration  and  defense  of  our  denominational 
principles ;  and  without  detracting  in  the  slightest  from  the  enviable  reputation  of  that 
work,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  this  more  ornate  in  style,  more  artistic  in  plot, 
more  thrillmg  in  incident.  It  can  not  fail  of  a  wide  popularity  and  an  extensive  circula- 
tion."— Religious  Herald. 

"  We  must  not  overlook,  as  occupying  no  minor  position  among  the  dramatis  person^ 
of  the  story,  Aunt  Peggy,  an  old,  pious,  shrewd  domestic,  and  a  Baptist  all  over,  inside 
and  outside,  with  strong  faith  in  the  promises  and  providence  of  God.  She  talks,  looks, 
and  acts  like  a  pious  slave  of  an  elevated  Christian  character,  and  is  allowed  great  liberties 
with  Christian  people.  Talk  about  the  negro  caricatures  in  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin!'  _  The 
authoress  of  '  Grace  Truman'  was  born  and  brought  up  with  this  race,  and  enjoying  a 
chastened  as  well  as  a  luxuriant  imagination,  has  drawn  truthful  and  life-like  characters 
in  all  her  portraits.  This  book  should  be  extensively  circulated.  Pastors  should  see  to 
it  that  it  goes  into  every  Baptist  family."— iJer.  John  M.  Peck,  D.D. 

SONGS  AND  BALLADS  FOR  THE  HOME 
.      AND  HOUSEHOLD. 

By  Sidney  Dyer. 

1  volume.    With  Steel  Portrait.    Price  75  cents. 

"A  book  of  mark  in  the  field  of  poesy." — Correspondent  of  Watchman  and  Reflector, 

"  Mr.  Dyer  is  evidently  a  poet — ^not  a  poet  on  stilts — nor  a  poet  without  common  sense 
brains,  nor  does  he  fly  away  from  every-day  life  on  the  wings  of  imagination— but  sings 
of  things  famUiar — things  of  the  household,  such  as  come  to  the  heart  and  aflFections  of  us 
all.     Mr.  Dyer  has  added  to  the  stock  of  our  literary  wealth." — Chicago  Democrat. 

"  Excellent  of  its  kind.  They  grow  out  of  the  experience  of  life,  and  teach  us  to  do 
bravely  in  the  battle  of  life." — Chicago  Tribune. 

"  We  have  read  with  the  keenest  enjoyment  many  of  the  pieces  in  the  volume,  some  of 
them  with  a  tear  standing  in  our  eye." — Western  Christian  Advocate. 

"  These  sweet  lyrics  of  Dyer  ought  to  be  in  every  family.  They  are  so  pure  and  musical 
—so  full  of  home  affections  and  memories — that  they  renew  within  us  the  feelings  and 
joys  of  childhood.  Taking  up  this  volume  after  the  toils  of  the  day,  late  in  the  evening, 
we  went  on  reading  and  reading,  unconscious  of  the  passing  hours,  until,  roused  from  a 
sweet  reverie,  we  found  it  was  past  the  hour  of  midnight  We  most  heartily  thank  tha 
publishers  for  sending  us  this  volume  of  songs  and  ballads." — Lutheran  Home  Journal. 


Books  Published  by  Bheldon^  JBlakenian  db  Co. 


THE  BAPTIST  LIBRARY. 

A  REPUBLICATION  OF   STANDARD  BAPTIST  WORKS. 

EDITED  BY  REV.  MESSRS.  G.  G.  SOMERS, 
W.  R.  WILLIAMS,  AND  L.  L.  HILL. 


1  vol.,  Royal  Octavo.    $3  50. 
Consisting  of  over  1300  ^o^es,  and  embracing  thefoUoioing  Works: 


Westlake'B  General  View  of  Baptism. 

Wilson's  Scripture  Manual  and  Miscellany. 

Booth' s  "Vindication  of  Baptists. 

Biography  of  Samuel  Stiilman,  D.D. 

Biography  of  Samuel  Harris. 

Biography  of  Lewis  Lunsford. 

Backus' 6  History  of  the  Baptists. 

The  Watery  War. 

Pengilly's  Scripture  Guide  to  Baptism. 

Fuller  on  Communion. 

Booth's  Pcedo-baptism  Examined. 

Dr.  Cox's  Reply  to  D wight 

Bunyan's  Grace  Abounding. 

The  Backslider.     By  Fuller. 

Hall  on  the  Ministry. 

Hall's  Address  to  Carey. 

Hall  on  Modem  Infidelity. 

Banyan's  Holy  War. 

Hall's  Review  of  Foster. 

The  Gospel  Worthy  of  all  Acceptation. 

Peter  and  Benjamin. 

Prof.  Ripley's  Review  of  Griffin  on  Com- 

manion. 
Memoirs  of  Rev.  Robert  HalL 
Fuller  on  Sandemanianism. 
Memoirs  of  Rev.  Samuel  Pearce. 
Brantley  on  Circumcision. 


Covel  on  the  American  and  Foreign  Bibla 
Society. 

Terms  of  Communion. 

The  Practical  Uses  of  Christian  Baptism. 
By  Andrew  Fuller. 

Expository  Discourses  on  Genesis.  By 
Andrew  Fuller. 

Decision  of  Character.     By  John  Foster. 

The  Travels  of  True  Godliness.  By  Benj. 
Keach. 

Help  to  Zion's  Travelers.     By  Robert  Hall. 

The  Death  of  Legal  Hope.  By  Abraham 
Booth. 

Come  and  Welcome  to  Jesus  Christ.  By 
John  Bunyan. 

BiooBAPHiOAi.  Sket<;hf.b  of  Elijah,  Craig, 
Joseph  Cook,  Daniel  Fristoe,  Oliver  Hart, 
Dutton  Lane,  James  Manning,  Kicliard 
Major,  Isaac  Backus,  Robert  Carter,  Silas 
Mercer,  Joshua  Morse,  Joseph  Reese, 
John  Waller,  Peter  Worden,  John  Wil- 
liams, Elijah  Baker,  James  Chiles,  Lemuel 
Covel,  Gardener  Thurston,  Jeremiah 
Walker,  Saunders  Walkor,  William  Web- 
ber, Shubael  Steams,  Eliakim  Marshall, 
Benjamin  Foster,  Morgan  Edwards,  Daniel 
MarshalL 


"  The  Library  is  a  dfitervedly  popular  work ;  for  it  is  a  choice  selection  fi-om  pious  and 
taloited  productions.  The  writings  of  such  men  need  no  encomium.  Most  of  them  have 
long  been  favorably  known.  They  have  stood  the  test  of  time.  It  contains  some  rare  and 
costly  works;  some  that  are  little  known,  yet  highly  prized  by  all  who  have  enjoyed  the 
privilege  of  perusing  them.  Here  the  humblest  child  of  God  may,  if  he  choose,  secure 
standard  authors,  for  a  trifle,  and  bless  himself  with  a  fund  of  useful  reading,  unsurpassed 
by  any  similar  compilation  in  Christendom.  Wo  cordially  approbate  the  publication.  It 
merits  a  liberal  patronage."— ITMtem  Baptist  Revievo. 

Tlio  same  "Works,  in  separate  Volumes,  could  not  be  furnished  for  lesfi  than 
Twenty  Dollars.    In  this  form,  they  are  offered  at  the  Low  Price  of  $3  50. 


Books  Published  by  Sheldon^  Blakeman  c5  Co. 
BENEDICT'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  BAPTISTS. 

A  General  History  of  the  Baptist  Denomination  in  America,  and  other  parts 

of  the  "World. 

By  David  Benedict. 

Containing  9T0  large  octaro  pages  in  one  volume,  bound  in  library  sheep.    Witli  a 

STEEL  POETEAIT  OP  EOGER  WILLIAilS.      Price  $3  50. 

This  complete  and  valuable  History  of  the  Baptist  Denomination  is  well  deserving  the 
large  sale  it  has  among  the  members  of  our  church. 

COMPENDIUM  OF  THE  FAITH  OF  THE 
BAPTISTS. 

Paper.     Price,  per  dozen,  50  cents. 
Every  church  should  get  a  supply  for  its  members. 

THE  LIFE,  CHAEACTER,  AND  ACTS  OF 
JOHN  THE  BAPTIST, 

And  the  Relation  of  his  Ministry  to  the  Christian  dispensation,  based  upon 

the  Johannes  der  Taufer  of  L.  Von  Rohden. 

By  the  Eev.  Wm.  C.  Dtincan,  M.A., 

Professor  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Languages  and  Literature  in  Louisiana  University. 

1  vol.,  12mo.    261  pages.    Price  75  cents. 

"  The  work  as  we  have  it  in  this  volume,  and  so  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  examine  it, 
is  thorough,  learned,  and  decidedly  able." — Puritan  Recorder. 

"  It  is  the  only  complete  work  on  this  subject  in  English,  and  we  need  no  other;  we 
hope  no  one  will  fail  to  procure  the  work." — N.  Y.  Chronicle. 

"  This  is  an  acceptable  addition  to  religious  literature — ^indeed  the  only  work  in  the  lan- 
guage exclusively  devoted  to  the  life  and  ministry  of  the  Baptist.  It  is  based  upon  Von 
Kohden'  s  German  treatise,  which  Neander  so  warmly  commends ;  and,  indeed,  the  whole 
of  Von  Rohden' s  work  is  comprised  in  this  volume,  but  with  very  considerable  additions 
of  original  matter,  which  give  it  increased  value  to  the  biblical  student,  and  also  better 
adapt  it  to  the  wants  of  the  general  reader." 

ROLLINGS  ANCIENT  HISTORY 

OP  THE  EGYPTIANS,  CARTHAGINIANS,  ASSYRIANS,  BABY- 
LONIANS, MEDES  AND  PERSIANS,  MACEDONIANS     . 
AND   GRECIANS. 
By  Charles  Rollin. 
Abridged  by  W.  H.  Wyckoff,  A.M. 
Complete  in  One  Volume,  8vo.    Price  $1  75. 


Books  Published  by  Sheldon,  Blakeman  if  Co, 


THE  ENGLISH  BIBLE  ;  Or,  History  of  the  Translation  of  the  Holy 
Seriptiu-es  Into  the  English  Tongue.   With  Specimens  of  the  early  English  Versions,  uid 
Portraits  of  Wickliffe  and  Tyndale.    By  Mbs.  H.  C.  C5onant.    1  voL,  8vo.    Price  $1  26. 
This  work  presents  a  continuous  view  of  the  progress  of  Bible- translation,  in  the  English 
language,  from  the  first  version  by  Wickliflfe  in  1880,  to  the  last,  made  by  order  of  King 
James  in  1611 ;  giving  an  account  of  the  successive  English  versions  of  AVicklifl'e,  Tyndale, 
Coverdale,  Taverner,  Cranmer,  theGenevan  Exiles,  the  Bishops,  the  Douay  (Catholic  ver- 
sion, and  King  James'  EcvL^ion,  and  of  the  relation  of  the  earlier  versions  to  the  one  now  in 
oae.    The  subject  embraces  the  leading  epochs  of  Anglo-Saxon  civilization  and  fireedom. 

TABLE    OF    CONTENTS: 


PART  FIRST. 
ENGLAND  WITHOUT  THE  BIBLE. 

Chapteb  L— The  Bible  the  People's  Char- 
ter.   Relation  of  Wickliflfe  to  his  age. 

Chaptsb  IL— Keign  of  Priestcraft.  The 
Papal  Army  in  England. 

Chaftsb  IIL — Counter-influences;  their 
inefficiency. 

Chaptkb  IV.— Wickliffe,  the  Bible- Apostle. 

CU4.PTEB  V. — Persecution  of  WickliflTe  by 
Papal  Clergy. 

Ohapter  VI. — Wicklitfe's  Views  of  the 
New-Testament  Ministry.  Character  and 
influence  of  his  '•  poore  priest es." 

Chapter  VIL— Wickliflfe  attacks  the  strong- 
hold of  Popery.  Silenced  as  Theological 
Professor  at  Oxford. 

Chapter  VIIL — Concentrates  his  labors  on 
the  enlightening  of  tlie  common  people. 
Originates  Religious  Tracts. 

Chapter  IX.— Wickliffe" s  Bible.  Its  per- 
manent influence  on  English  Christianity, 
and  on  the  English  language  and  literature. 

PART  SECOND. 

AGE  OF  BIBLE  TRANSLATION  IN 
ENGLAND. 

1525-1611. 

Obaftcb  L — Continued  Influence  of  Wlck- 

lifle's  Bible  among  the  people.    Revival 

of  classical  and  sacred  learning  in  the 

schools.    Opposition  of  the  Clergy. 

Ohaptbb  II.— William  Tyndale's  New  Tes- 

tiunent    Proscribed  by  Church  and  State. 

Chaptkb    III.  —  Tyndale's    Reformatory 

Writings. 
Chaptkb  rV. — Persecution  of  Tyndale  by 

Cardinal  Wolsey. 
CbAPTKB  v.— The  New  Antagonist     Cha- 
racter of  Sir  Thomas  Moore.     Ills  early 
connection  with  the  cause  of  Cburch-Re- 


Ohaptr  VI.— The  theoretical  Reformer 
becomes  the  practical  Conservative.  Dls- 
tmsts  the  Reformation  as  revolutionary 
In  it*  tendency.  Grounds  of  his  condem- 
nation of  Tyndale's  New  Testament 

Chapter  VIL— Sir  Thomas  Moore  as  Lord 
Chancrllor.  The  Wvil  power  now  the 
leader  in  persecution.  Tyndale's  New 
Testament  proscribed  by  royal  manifesto. 
Blble-baming  at  Paul's  Cross. 

Chapter  VIII.— Frith  Tvndalft^  youthful 
assistant  in  Bible-translation.  His  brilliant 
and  heroic  character     His  martyrdom. 

Ohaptkr  IX. — Anne  Bolevn,  the  Koval  Pa- 
trviMsc    The  King's  Divoi  e.    England 


Bei)arated  from  the  Papacy.    Anne's  Influ- 
ence in  favor  of  the  Bible. 

Chapter  X.— Efforts  by  King  and  Clergy 
to  entrap  Tyndale.  His  imprisonment 
and  martyrdom. 

Chapter  XL— Triumph  of  the  Principle. 
Tyndale's  Bible  authorised  to  be  read  in 
public  and  in  private,  without  restriction. 

Chaptbe  XII.— Coverdale's  Bible. 

Chapter  XIII.— Taverner's  Bibie. 

Chapter  XIV. — Cranmer's  Bible.  The 
Anglican  Church.  Rise  of  Puritanism  in 
the  Church. 

Chapter  XV  .—The  Reign  of  Terror.  Cha- 
racter of  Bloody  Mary.  Protestant  Mar- 
tyrs and  Exiles. 

Chapter  XVI.— The  Genevan  Version.  Its 
superior  Scholarship.  Its  influence  on 
the  development  of  Puritanism  in  the 
Church.  The  Family  Bible  of  England 
for  nearly  a  century. 

Chapter  XVIL — The  Bishop's  Bible. 
Queen  Elizabeth's  Policy  with  reference 
to  the  Church.  Conflict  between  Prelacy 
and  Puritanism. 

Chaptkb  XVIII.— The  Bishop's  Bible- 
continued.  Motives  of  its  projector.  Arch- 
bishop Parker.  First  English  Version  of 
the  Scriptures  bearing  the  impress  of 
party. 

Chapter  XIX.— Rhemlsh  or  Donay  Bible; 
the  Catholic  Version.  Its  Origin,  Charac 
ter  and  Influence. 

Chaptbr  XX.— The  Common  Version.  State 
of  Parties  In  the  Church  at  James'  Acces- 
sion. Hampton  Court  Conference;  tri. 
umph  of  the  prelatical  party.  Proposa 
for  a  Revision  of  the  Church-Bll  le  favor- 
ably received  by  the  King.  His  motives. 
His  plan  for  the  work. 

Chapter  XXI. — The  Common  Version- 
continued.  The  Kings  liberal  arrange- 
ments for  securing  and  rewarding  compe- 
tent revisers.  Principles  of  translation 
prescribed  by  the  Klnje;  their  influence 
on  the  character  of  the  V  ersion.  It.s  ScLo- 
larshlp.  Contemporaneous  criticism.  Ob 
stacles  to  Ita  reception  within  and  without 
the  Clinrch.  The  Just  claims  of  the  Com- 
mon Version. 

Chapter  XXII.— Retrospect  Leading ch«p 
ractcristlrs  and  Influence  of  English  Bible.*^ 
Translation.  New  and  brilliant  era  of 
Pacrcd  Learning.  Progress  In  every 
branch  of  BIbliral  knowledge.  Restora- 
tion of  the  Original  Text  for  the  use  »>f  the 
learned.  Present  stale  of  HchoIarshIn  two 
centnries  hi  advance  of  the  English  Bible 


Books  Published  by  Shetdon,  Blakeman  <^  Oo. 


** -4  Mod  Absorbing  Book.'* 
MRS.  LINCOLN  PHELPS'  NEW  ROMANCE,  IDA  NORMAN ;  or,  Triali 

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volume,  12mo,  cloth,  beautifully  illustrated  in  tint.    Price,  $1  25. 

READ  WHAT  THE  CRITICS  SAY  OF  IT. 

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GILFILLAN'S  NEW  WORK.    A  Third  Gallery  of  Portraits,  by  George 
GilfiUan.     One  volume,  12mo.     Cloth.    Price  $1  25. 


FUe  of  French  Revolutionists. 

MiRABEAU, 

Marat, 

Robespierre, 

Danton, 

Vergniaud, 

Napoleon, 


Qmstdlaf  n  of  Sacred  Authors. 
Edward  Irving, 
Isaac  Taylor, 
Robert  Hall, 
Dr.  Chalmers. 


CONTENTS : 

A  Cluster  of  New  Poets. 

Sydney  Yendys, 
Alexander  Smith, 
J.  Stanyon  Bigg, 
Gerbald  Massey. 

Modern  Critics. 


Miscellaneous  8ketche$. 
Carule  and  Sterling, 


Neal  and  Bunyak, 
Edgar  A.  Pob, 
Edmond  Burke, 
Sir  Edw.  Lytton  Bitlwib, 
Benjamin  Disraeli, 
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Henry  Rogeks, 
jEschylus,      Promethkct 

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Muted  MTith  rare  critical  acumen  and  a  lively  v^tw  of  satire." — New  York  Day  Ihok.* 


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